The Baby
by fangirl1982
Summary: Jack/Deanna/Gabrielle fic. Easier to read the first chapter than describe it.
1. Chapter 1

**Hey, guys! I'm writing this concurrently with _The Farm_, so whatever fic gets the more feedback/traffic is the one I'll work faster on :p**

"Jack, what am I going to do?"

Jack Quade held his girlfriend Deanna Richardson in his arms, his id torn. On the one hand, the woman he had fallen deeply for had accused his boss Frank Campion of hitting on her and threatening to have her fired if she didn't sleep with him, and he wanted to believe her and support her. On the other, he had never known Frank to overstep that kind of boundary before. For sure, he could be an autocrat who had no thought for how his demands ground down his staff, but there had never been a hint of sexual harassment plague him. Something like this could ruin his career and over what, an accusation made with no real witnesses, just the fact that Jack had seen her immediately after she'd left his office, shaking badly.

_She'd been shaking_. The normally cool, calm, collected Deanna Richardson who was always in control of the situation and whom Jack had only seen crack twice – the first when they had first gotten together and she had been rattled by a couple of scamming patients, and now. She was deeply distressed, that much was obvious. And he wanted to comfort her. But the idea that Frank could do something like that was almost as heinous as the idea that someone he cared about was so distressed over being sexually harassed. God knew, unwanted sexual attention was something he knew plenty about.

"Jack?" Deanna asked him again. Damnit, this had to work. She hadn't intended to push Jack into being her backer so soon – she'd wanted to wait until he told her he loved her, or better yet, asked her to move in with him. But not into his place. She'd been sending subtle hints that it was stupid for him to keep living in that pokey little duplex with an overprotective landlady who taken in instant dislike to Deanna when he had a perfectly good place in Bondi that he'd inherited from his mother and was renting out – he was convinced it was better to rent out the more expensive place that he had no use for and live somewhere cheaper – but so far, Jack was sticking to his pokey little duplex. She wanted Jack to be completely infatuated with her before she manipulated him into doing her dirty work. But Frank had caught up with her manipulations, and Jack had come across her when she was genuinely upset, and she'd had to come up with _something_. That Frank had sexually harassed her and told him she could sleep with him or resign had been he first thing she'd been able to come up with while Jack was banging on her bathroom door, demanding to be let in the loop.

Jack held her tighter and kissed the top of her head. He knew what it was like to not have someone believe you when someone else – a supposed respectable member of the community – had forced themselves on you. He remembered how his step-mother had given him the worst belting to date when he'd tried to tell her about Patrick Wesley. No way could he inflict that kind of betrayal on Deanna. "It's OK," he said. "We'll think of something."

"_What_, Jack?" she asked. She was sobbing now, and it was all Jack could do not to go over to Frank's place and confront the older doctor himself. "It's just his word against mine."

He rubbed her back reassuringly. "I don't know, sweetheart. But I promise I won't let him hurt you." The way he spoke this made Deanna's heart leap with delight. She had learnt all about Jack and his temper when it came to the women he cared about; it was one of the reasons she had zoned in on him. She was banking on the fact that Jack would be so full of protective rage that he'd defend Deanna, even if it meant destroying Frank's career.

"Thankyou. I hate being such a bother."

He kissed her head again. He loved the way she felt in his arms, even in such horrible circumstances like that. Like her body was made for his. He loved the way her body just melted into his when they hugged, the way she clung to him when they were in bed, the way her sexual tastes matched his perfectly, even the way she dug her nails into his back until the skin hadn't been unmarked for weeks. It just proved how passionate she was about him. Of course, he wasn't to know that Deanna was a master manipulator who had quickly worked out what Jack liked in a partner – someone who loved giving and receiving affection, someone who was passionate and open-minded in bed. It didn't hurt that he was very talented in bed, and not selfish and mind-numbingly conservative like so many surgeons were. "You're not a bother," he murmured, and she knew she had won him over.

With studied passivity, she allowed him to lift her and carry her to bed. She lay in his arms with appropriate stiffness – after all, it wouldn't do for someone who had just been sexually assaulted to appear too wanton – as he tried to get her in the mood. She flinched believably when he tried to untie her nightgown and burst into fresh tears. "I'm sorry," she sobbed into his shoulder. "It's just whenever you touch me, it makes me think of _him_."

He got off her and lay on his side, his head propped up with his arm, and looked at her, his heart going out to her. He remembered how long it had taken for him to enjoy being touched after a childhood full of physical and then sexual abuse. "It's OK," he said.

"It's not," she sobbed. "You've been so good to me and I can't give you what you want."

He stroked her hair. "Just because you're a bit skittish doesn't mean I love you any less," he said, the words out of his mouth before he'd thought about him.

She stared at him in delight. She hadn't even have to inveigle him to say the words! She looked away, feigning embarrassment. "Don't say anything you don't mean," she whispered. "I'm not in the mood."

Gently he cupped her chin and brought her head around so she was looking at him. "Hey, it's not something I say if I don't mean it," he assured her. He had his doubts, but he couldn't tell her that, couldn't push on her already-shattered nerves. "I love you."

"Jack..."

"You don't have to say anything if you don't want to. I just wanted you to know."

She smiled at him through her tears. "I love you too," she whispered.

He kissed her forehead. "I'm going to go really slow," he said. "Close you eyes, focus on me – my voice, my touch. It works, I promise."

True to his word, he took his time to a point she wanted to scream at him to speed it up. Instead, she feigned initial reluctance then growing comfort in Jack's arms until she allowed him to make love to him with a gentleness that belied both his size and the frenzied sessions they'd had in the past. She wondered how long until it was permissible for her to behave more wantonly.

Afterwards, she lay in his arms and gloried in his embrace and soothing words, She had him completely hooked on her. "I'm just going to have a shower, then you can have me all night," he said.

She gave him a few minutes before slipping out of bed and joining him. "Thought I could do your back," she suggested seductively in the voice she knew he liked – sultry and wanton, but only for him. She let him believe that she'd never known the kind of passion they had together, never done the things he liked doing with her with anyone else.

"You sure this is what you want?" he asked, reaching for her even though he was apprehensive about pushing her too far.

"I trust you, Jack," she said, pushing her body against his and kissing him deeply. Jack was pleasantly surprised by her change in demeanour, and flattered that he could make he feel safe in such a short period of time. He pushed her against the wall of the shower and started running his hands the length of his body while using his mouth across her face and neck. Deanna arched her back and purred. This was more like it. "Jack!" she cried out with genuine desire when he slid his hand between her legs, testing for her readiness. "Jack, please," she panted, She hoped she wasn't sounding too wanton, but she couldn't help it, she genuinely desired him. She had lied to him about how experienced she was, but not about how attracted she was to him. She wrapped her legs around his waist when he picked her up and pushed himself inside her. "Jack!"

God, he loved the way she said his name when they were having sex. He loved the way she never made him feel oversexed just because he liked it a lot. He loved how perfectly compatible they were.

"You're totally incorrigible," he said after they were finished. "I'm going to do my back in one day because of you."

"I promise you word-class bedside care if you do," she said, smiling lovingly at him. She reached out and ran her hand through his hair. He looked so cute with wet hair. Actually, he was cute fullstop, and she told him so.

Afterwards, he combed her hair out with a skill that was rare in men – one thing he had noticed about her was a jealous streak which had reared itself when he'd mentioned it was something he'd picked up because Lucy Stevens-Sullivan had a special talent for tangling her hair, but hey, a little jealousy he could deal with, it was kind of flattering that she didn't like the idea of him with another woman – and enjoyed the way she purred at the sensation, he cuddled up to her in bed, liking the way she curled into his arms and fit against his body. He thought about the fact he'd told her he loved her, and decided while it had been spur-of-the-moment, it had been the right thing to do. He did care about her a great deal, and knew she cared about him a great deal in return. After the debacle that had been his relationship with Terri Sullivan, it was nice to be with someone who wanted him for himself and loved him.

The next day, they showered together again and got ready for work together. She made it obvious she was taking the pill, then spat it out with her toothpaste. She knew she was running a risk, being so blatant, but it gave her a kick to have Jack think she took her dedication to birth control seriously. She had worked out shortly after they had first slept together how to ultimately hook Jack. He had never truly gotten over Charlotte's miscarriage, and his desire to have a child was obvious. Anyone could see it if you knew what you were looking for – at the park, he'd watch the parents with their children, the way he paid extra care to the children brought into the ward. He wanted a child, and Deanna planned to give him one. The fact he'd told her he loved her without being prompted was heartening. She was sure if she got pregnant she could coax him into marriage without much effort.

He drove them into work, having committed himself, albeit reluctantly, to testifying to the work about Deanna's accusations. She cuddled up to him in the carpark. "Thanks for doing this," she said.

"I want to be there for you," he said. She could hear it in his voice that he wasn't entirely convinced it was a good idea, but that wasn't important. He loved her, and soon she'd be pregnant, and he'd be so in love with her that he wouldn't give Frank's downfall another thought, let alone care.

* * *

"Jack, come on mate, you can't stay in there forever."

"Like hell I can't." Jack was kneeling in front of the toilet, sure that his stomach had nothing left to bring up, but for the fourth time in an hour he was surprised and brought up bile. His stomach hurt, although not as much as his heart ego and conscience. He couldn't believe that Deanna had turned out to be such a fraud. The way she had lain in his arms, trembling with fear, responding to his touch – and she'd been playing him all along. He wondered if she'd been laughing at him behind his back. Laughing at stupid Jack Quade who was so desperate to be loved that he believed every words of bullshit that had come out of her mouth. Condemning him because his backing of her had led to Frank's heart attack. His stomach lurched again.

"OK, Jack, come on. Open the door or I'll get the keys off Frank and I don't think you want to deal with him right now."

Reluctantly, Jack got up off the floor – he knew now his stomach was definitely empty – and unlocked the bathroom. His friend and mentor Vincent Hughes looked at him sympathetically, despite the aggro Jack, his penis and his misguided attempts to be loved had caused them all. Frank might have had a heart attack, but he would fully recover in time. Whereas Jack's heart had barely healed from the battering it had taken from his relationship with Terri – who knew when he would next be able to trust a woman? "I'll take you home," Vincent said.

"I can work."

"Like hell you can. Don't be stubborn, Jack. You're a laughingstock as it is, don't let people talk about the fact you had to be escorted off hospital grounds. Let me take you home."

What fight Jack had left in him vanished and he allowed Vincent to take him home. Weak from humiliation and an empty stomach, his knees buckled after a few steps and struggled as he felt Vincent's arms around his waist. If he passed out in Vincent's car, he was not being carried to it.

Vincent took him home to the pokey little duplex that Deanna had hated, along with his landlady Mary, and his heart lurched at the memory. He realised now that she had been after him to move them into the Bondi place he'd inherited from his mother. It would be weeks before inane, everyday things made him think of Deanna and her betrayal.

Vincent rummaged through Jack's fridge and put together a plate of leftovers. Jack pushed it away. "Want vodka," he said.

"The last time you wanted vodka, you got my ex pregnant," Vincent reminded him with a smirk. Jack glared at him. "Fine, exes are off limits," he conceded. "But you have to eat something or you'll make yourself sick."

Jack accepted the plate and ate, but it was clear that his heart wasn't in it. Vincent didn't say anything until Jack was ready to talk and finally he said, "I just can't believe she could do all that stuff – I mean, she was _so convincing_, when we were in private... it wasn't just the sex, it was the way she used to put her head in my lap when we were watching a DVD. How can you fake something like that? How can you care so little about a person to do that?"

"Maybe she did care about you," Vincent said.

"Oh, cut the crap. You hated her."

"Well, think of it this way. She's out of your life, she's out of everyone's lives, and at least you still have you career and your health." Jack stared at Vincent woefully and Vincent groaned. "You've _got_ to be kidding me. You never used a condom, did you?"

"She said I didn't need to," Jack said in a small voice. It had seemed a perfectly reasonable request when she had been wrapped around him and felt insulted that he didn't trust her, but in the cold light of day – what had been thinking? _Oh yeah, with my dick_.

"Jack! How could you be so careless? You know you have to think of your patients as well as yourself."

"I know, OK. I fucked up. Jesus, what am I going to do?"

"Jack, I'm sorry. I wish things had worked out better for you."

"Whatever." Jack brought his knees up against his chest and seemed to physically withdraw within himself. Vincent waited until he'd drunk himself into passing out and left him on the couch. Jack could be maddening sometimes because of the havoc he wreaked in his relationship judgement, but he was fundamentally a decent guy with a lot of capacity for love... pity he kept giving it away to women who didn't appreciate it.

* * *

"I mean, surgeons are selfish in bed anyway, but Jack took it to a whole new level." Deanna had been holding court at Cougars for the last week, enlightening her group of minions with stories about how selfish men in general and surgeons in particular were. Her group tittered. "You'd think someone with such skill with their hands would have a clue what to do with them when he's not holding a scalpel!"

Vincent listened with fury. He couldn't believe Deanna had the nerve to sit there and make up crap about Jack. You'd think she'd just slink off to whatever rock she had crawled out from under. She was achieving nothing in bad-mouthing Jack, except out of pure spite because he'd dumped her. She was dragging his name through the mud, portraying him as a lousy boyfriend and selfish lay who she had dumped rather than the other way around.

He waited until she left, and followed her. She was unlocking her car when he grabbed her arm and twisted her around, wrapping his hand around her throat. He was glad to see a look of fear in her eyes. Like most bullies, she cowered at real violence, at least that being inflicted on her. She tried to choke out a protest, but Vincent's grip was too strong. "I can't believe you're doing this to Jack," he hissed. "He was _in love_ with you and you repaid him with your lies... and now you're badmouthing him out of sheer spite."

He loosened his grip. "Jealous, Vincent?" she shot back hatefully."I saw the way you would look at me."

Was she serious? He'd never been the least bit interested in her, even before she had revealed her true colours. Her interest in Jack had been too obvious. "I'm not interested in Jack's sloppy seconds, even if you _weren't_ Queen Bitch."

Deanna laughed at him. "You surgeons are all the same, watching each other's backs. Well, just you wait – soon you'll all be sorry."

Now it was Vincent's turn to laugh."If I see you again, I'll break your neck," he promised her, and he meant it. And he knew from the look in Deanna's life that she knew he meant it. He let go of her neck and stormed off, taking a little pleasure out of frightening Deanna away. He figured she had been full of bluster when she'd threatened they'd all be sorry; no-one trusted her, she had no backers – exactly what did she plan to do?

* * *

Jack was waking through the ED, his head down, not paying much attention to his surroundings. He still felt funny being in the ED. He had felt responsible when he

'd found out about Nelson's departure, knowing that Deanna's screwing with him had something to do with it. Sure, the nurse had been on the verge of a breakdown to begin with, but Deanna had needled him into the descent being speedier, and he hated knowing he had played any part in it made him feel awful.

He'd been sent to drop off some records to Frank, and he was eager to get in and out as soon as possible. Head down, not looking where he was going, he ran into someone and dropped the records. "Watch it!" he yelled, and as soon as he looked up and saw the uniform – not to mention the collection of keys hanging around her neck – and his heart sank. So this was the new NUM, the woman following Dan, Nelson – and Deanna. And she was blond, too. And tall. Tall enough that he wouldn't have to get a crick in his neck to kiss her. Jesus Christ, why had he thought of _that_?

"Sorry," Gabrielle said, although it was _his_ fault. She took a peek at his name tag. _Jack Quade_. This was the guy everyone had warned her about. He was cute. She picked up his folder, went to hand it to him and her fingers brushed his wrist as she did. Instant chemistry. It only made him snarlier.

"Don't! Fucking nurses," he snarled. And with that, he stormed off, leaving Gabrielle completely flabbergasted at their exchange.

"It's not personal," Charlotte Beaumont said when Gabrielle related the incident later. She had only just met the older woman, but she felt a sense of camaraderie in her. "He really got burned by our last NUM – well, not the last one, a couple of them ago – and he's still hurting over it. He'll apologise later."

"I'd much rather he didn't come near me if _that's_ the way he's going to treat a stranger," Gabrielle said loftily.

True to Charlotte's word, Jack tracked her down later that day. "Look, I'm really sorry about before. You reminded me of someone who really hurt me, and I lashed out."

"Damn straight you did," Gabrielle said, but she couldn't help but feel sorry for him. Charlotte had been very sympathetic towards Jack, saying she had played Jack like the expert manipulator she was, making him fall in love with her and betraying him as deeply as a person can be betrayed. _That_ was certainly something she could relate to. She had come to Sydney to get away from her ex, who had cheated on her with her best friend. She flinched at the memory...

...Jack noticed her do it and wondered what he had said that had reminded her of something that could get such a violent reaction. "Look, why don't I buy you a drink to make up for it?" he offered. She looked inclined to say no, but he pushed on. "I'm not asking you out or anything – just an apology drink. Or coffee if you'd rather."

She decided to trust him. "A drink sounds good," she said. "What's that place across the road?"

"Cougars," Jack supplied.

"Cougars. I'll meet you there at seven."

... "I couldn't believe when I found out," Jack said a few hours later when he and Gabrielle were settled into a corner booth at Cougars, sipping beers. "She was so convincing. She knew exactly what I liked and played me something chronic. I mean, how can you lie in someone's arms and tell them what they want to hear and not give a shit that you're breaking their heart?"

Gabrielle nodded sympathetically. Jack was describing exactly what it had felt like when she'd found out about Steve and Ashley, wondering how Steve could have made love to her while he was screwing _her_. Had he not realised how badly it would hurt when she found out, had he not cared, or had he thought he could get away with it? Shored up by Gabrielle's sympathy, Jack continued. "And then the crap she made up about me – she couldn't even keep her stories straight, one minute I was impotent and the next I was playing around on her. I just don't get why she'd bother – how could she hate me that much after all I'd done for her?"

Impulsively she grabbed his hand and squeezed it. "I'm sorry I was short with you before," she said. "I didn't realise how much you were hurting."

"Of course you didn't. I was a stranger who lashed out at you." He didn't pull his hand away. Instead, he turned it over so it was palm-up and ran his fingers over it. "You've done a lot of labour," he commented, tracing the calluses, broken skin and generally work-worn hands, not to mention the small burns on her wrists.

She found herself feeling strangely elevated at such an intimate touch, not to mention the insight about her hands. "I'm from a farm near Widgee, that's about a hundred and fifty k's from here," she explained. "I've handled ropes, wood, reins, not to mention how many times I've burnt myself in the kitchen. What about you? You're clearly not used to labour?" she teased, inspecting his own hands.

"I've largely gotten through life on my intelligence. Plus, you'd be surprised how many patients get freaked out when a surgeon's hands are in bad nick. I suppose I'd feel the same if I went into a chef's kitchen and all the utensils were greasy. I can recommend a few products that would help, if you'd like. I mean, your hands are fine, but it's not hard to make them look nice if you know what you're doing. I mean – oh, can we just pretend I never said that?"

"I'm not insulted, Jack," she said. Neither made a move to separate their hands. She met his eyes and smiled at him. She had such a cute smile, he thought. _Oh, God, I can't be thinking this_, he thought. It was too soon and there was no way he was getting involved with the NUM again. This was just a drink between two potential friends, with someone he appeared to have a good rapport with.

"You've got gorgeous eyes," she blurted out. She'd just noticed they seemed to change colour. When they'd first met, they seemed to be bright green and spitting anger, and now they were more of a blue-grey, like the colour of the sky after a storm. There was an air of mystery that seemed appropriate.

The comment made him look at her directly, which gave her a better view. "Um, thanks," he mumbled. He didn't break off eye contact, which gave her a long look at his face and she realised just how attractive he was. It wasn't just his eyes, although they provided something alluring that went beyond just the colour – there was so much veiled emotion there, like there was a well of feeling that just needed to be accessed by the right person. And it was that apparently unconscious habit he had of biting on his lip when he was thinking. God, his lips looked so kissable. She bet a man who wore his heart on his sleeve like Jack did know how to kiss. She turned away, feeling the blood rise to her face.

"Hey." Jack cupped her chin in his hand and rotated her head to face him like it had done only weeks ago with Deanna. "Was it something I said? You're blushing."

"I am not!" Gabrielle said, feeling herself blush harder. If only he wouldn't look at her like that, the searching eyes reading her face for answers. If only he'd let go of her face... and her hand.

"Yes, you are. Am I making you uncomfortable?"

"Jack," she whispered, and it clicked what she was thinking. Every bit of reason in his body told him not to do it. He was still hurting from Deanna's betrayal and Frank would probably cut off his balls if he got involved with yet another of his staff. But more than reason was chemistry and desire and that connection with someone that you rarely had with someone, let alone instantaneously...

He pulled away so abruptly that she felt crushed by the disappointment of rejection. "Jesus Christ," he said with such vehemence that he could just as well have been swearing a blue streak.

"What the hell are _you_ doing here? I thought Vincent scared you off."

"Lovely of you to sick someone else on me, Jack," Deanna said. She could still feel the pressure of Vincent's arm around her neck. Well, now it was payback time. Jack needed her, and while Jack needed her, Vincent couldn't touch her. She took in Gabrielle. It was obvious they had been up to something, but it was more than that... her eyes narrowed on the collection of keys Gabrielle wore around her neck, keys to every locker and locked cabinet in the ward. "Those are _my_ keys," she said, as if Gabrielle were the one who didn't belong and not her.

Gabrielle felt a shiver. She was sure she had the strength to take Deanna in a fight, but the way she was glaring at her with such cold hate, and for no better reason then Gabrielle had 'her' keys and was having an innocent drink with 'her' man. Well, it wasn't exactly an innocent drink, but it wasn't like they had kissed or anything.

"What do you want?" Jack asked shortly.

"That's no way to talk to the mother of your child, Jack," she said sweetly.

Jack blanched. He should have known that Deanna wasn't going to go away quietly. Vincent hadn't been able to unearth any evidence, even if the rumour-and-innuendo kind, that Deanna had been playing around, but that didn't mean she hadn't been. Jack wouldn't put it past her to try and pin paternity on him, that was, if she _was_ pregnant. He wouldn't put it past her to be making that little detail up, either. But what she expected to get out of it, he wasn't sure. It wasn't like he wanted anything to do with her, ever again. He closed his eyes and wished she and all her aggro would just go away. "I'll organise a paternity test and if it's mine, I'll sort something out with you."

"It _is_ yours, you shit," Deanna hissed. She hadn't expected it to turn out like this, she had believed she had enough of a hold over Jack that he would eventually forgive her. And now here he was, looking awfully cosy with her replacement – and a very plain-looking replacement at that. She glared hatefully at Gabrielle, enjoying the way the other woman blanched. "And I'm not _sorting something out with you_. If you want this kid, you're going to marry me."

He stared at her for a second, then laughed. The very thought was so absurd that he figured it was a joke. "You can't be serious," he finally said when it became apparent that she was in fact quite serious. "What makes you think I want to be within ten meters of you, let alone _marry_ you?"

"What makes you think I'd reduce myself to being some kind of incubator for you?" she retorted. "If you don't marry me, Jack, I'll get rid of it."

For a second, the nausea he'd felt after he'd found out about her betrayal threatened to return. He had to get her out of here before she created a scene. "Gabrielle, do you mind if we cut this short?" he asked her.

"Of course not." Gabrielle was eager to get out of there. She hurried off, rattled from her short experience with Deanna. It wouldn't be until later that she would realise just what Deanna was holding over Jack, and she'd feel awful for thinking only of herself.

Jack stood up and grabbed Deanna by the arm, dragging her outside. "Ow! You're hurting! Watch the merchandise!" she yelled.

"No-one ever miscarried from having their arm being pulled," Jack muttered darkly. He dragged her out to his car and opened the passenger door. "Get in," he ordered. He was not having a discussion with her in the carpark of Cougars. To his relief, Deanna got in rather than argue with him. "D'you still live at the same place?" he asked.

"What's wrong with yours?" Deanna jeered. "Move into an even more awful place then that pokey little duplex that burned down."

"Nice to know you're stalking me," he said sarcastically. He couldn't believe he was bickering with her.

"I was not stalking for you, I was trying to find you," she said indignantly. "What happened to your phone."

"Got a new number." God, why was he bothering justifying himself to her? "And I moved in with Dan, so I'd really not rather he overhear our conversation."

She laughed spitefully at him. "You've _got_ to be kidding me," she jeered. "You _have_ to move out of that awful duplex and what do you do, move in with a nurse when you have a perfectly good house in Bondi."

"Always did have ambitions to live by the beach, didn't you?" he jeered right back. Gritting his teeth, he refused to respond to any more of her little put-downs until he pulled into her driveway and followed her into the house. Though it had never occurred to him before, he now wondered how she could afford to live in such a nice place on her own. He knew Terri's financial position hadn't been great, and she'd had Mitch's life insurance and the fact the house was already paid for to her benefit. He highly doubted Deanna had come across such a cosy arrangement through such honest means.

"What do you want from me?" he asked once in the house.

"I told you what I want."

"I'm not marrying you, Deanna."

"You will if you want this baby."

"How in God's name can you think that will make you happy?" he demanded incredulously. He'd heard of women putting the screws on their boyfriends when they were pregnant, but this was ridiculous. They had broken up ages ago, and she knew he hated her. He sighed, feeling suddenly very resigned because he knew he could never make her understand. For whatever reason, she had her heart set on marriage and nothing would convince her how monstrously stupid it was. "Look, you know about my dad. I've seen it. He never wanted to be married and he made everyone paid for it. And I'm sure he ever loved Stella when he married her. I hate you. What do you think you're going to get out of it?"

"I want to be a surgeons wife," she said. "You want this kid, you'll have to marry me. Your mother was just a stupid whore who held out too long thinking your dad was actually going to divorce Stella and marry her. I'm not going to be that stupid. I'm not going to let me use you like that. I'm not going to destroy my figure and my attractability to be a single mum because you won't take responsibility for your actions." There, she'd hit him where it hurt. He was highly sensitive about how long his mother had spent resenting him because he hadn't been enough to win her Ned Quade. But she wasn't done yet. "Mind you, I suppose if she _hadn't_ been stupid, she wouldn't have had you."

She almost felt sorry for him. He seemed to physically shrink in front of her. She had known when he had talked about his rotten childhood and the haunting knowledge that the only reason he'd been born was because his mother had left it too late to have an abortion, hoping that Ned would come through on his promise of divorce and marriage, that it would be easy to hook him. And he knew it. "Please," he said. "I can come up with... twenty grand," he said, thinking quickly. It was easily a hundred because of the collateral he had in the Bondi place, but she didn't have to know that. While he clung to the hope that she might settle for money, he wasn't stupid enough to offer her everything he had first go.

She glared at him. She knew how much that place was worth, she had gone by it enough times wondering how she could get Jack to upgrade, and she knew he owed less than half on it. He was insulting her to offer her so little. Twenty grand was probably just the liquid cash he had sitting in his bank account. Besides, she didn't want money. What was she going to do with herself a year or two down the track when she was a single mother with nothing to show for it? "No," she said with chilling finality. "I've made my terms clear, Jack. If you don't make up your mind in a week, I promise I'll have an abortion."

She knew he'd stall, knew he'd try to weasel out of it, but she also knew from the completely defeated look on his face that he'd give her what she wanted.


	2. Chapter 2

"I don't suppose you've seen Jack yet?" Gabrielle asked Vincent the next day. She had been keeping an eye out for him since she'd gotten to work, but either he had called in sick or was keeping a low profile. She wanted to know what had transpired between him and Deanna after she had left. She couldn't believe what a conniving woman her predecessor was. She had heard of women who deliberately lie about being on the pill or sabotaging diaphragms to make their boyfriends marry them, but this was in a league of its own.

Vincent shook his head. "No, I tried paging him before, but he had it off or wasn't answering. Why, is something up?" He had heard about their run-in the day before; he had meant to find Jack and have a few words to him about it – it wasn't fair of Jack to take his anger with Deanna out of her replacement. He noticed Gabrielle looked worried and torn, which concerned Vincent. "What happened? He didn't have another go at you, did he?"

"Oh, God no. He was actually kind of sweet about it – he apologised later and bought me a drink. That's kind of what the problem was. We had a run in with Deanna Richardson."

Needless to say, Vincent was surprised. He had been sure from the look of terror on Deanna's face that she wouldn't be showing it around here anytime soon. But that was only a few weeks ago. What was she doing back? "Deanna! What on earth was she doing?"

Gabrielle wasn't going to tell Vincent exactly what had transpired. "Out to pick a fight, I guess. Jack asked me to leave so I didn't catch any of it but... she had no issue with me, apart from the fact I had her ward keys and her boyfriend –" Vincent laughed here, because Gabrielle had done a pretty good impression of Deanna's possessiveness " – and that was reason enough for her to hate me. No wonder Jack had issues with me. If that's the way she'll treat a stranger..."

"Then how would she treat someone she holds responsible for losing her job?" Vincent finished. Gabrielle nodded. "I'll see if I can find him," Vincent mused, and Gabrielle hoped Jack wouldn't be angry with her for telling Vincent about their run-in with Deanna. He walked off, furious at the woman for her complete indifference to the hurt and havoc she had wreaked on people's lives – and was still wreaking on Jack's. She was without exception, the single most selfish, vicious, manipulative woman Vincent had ever met.

Jack found her later that day. "Did you say something to Vincent?" he asked bluntly. "He wanted to know about Deanna and I."

She noted that he looked like he'd aged ten years in the last night. She wondered what had exchanged between them that he looked so run down. "I just said she'd confronted you and that you asked me to leave," she said. "I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking."

"It's OK. I just – look, I can trust you not to say anything?"

"Of course." She tried not to be insulted that he wasn't sure if he could trust her or not, even though it was fair enough, they had only met yesterday. Suddenly, her heart went out to him. If Deanna was telling the truth, he was stuck in a lousy situation. "Look, you look like you could do with a drink," she said impulsively. "Do you want to come over for a few drinks tonight? I make a really good chicken parmie, I'm yet to find a pub that can top it." She realised she was selling herself as if she was pestering him for a date, and felt like an idiot. This was a guy who had sworn at her yesterday, a guy who may or may not be expecting a child with an ex that he and the rest of the world hated. "Sorry, I'm being too glib. I didn't mean to make it sound like it's no big deal."

He smiled thinly. Part of what he liked about Gabrielle was her complete lack of pretensions. He doubted she knew how to be manipulative, or play politics, or be anything but upfront and genuine. "That sounds good," he said. "It's been ages since anyone cooked for me. Dan survives on takeaway and microwave dinners, and it was one of the few things Deanna couldn't fake. She once managed to boil a pot of soup dry."

Gabrielle laughed at that. "Sounds like my brother. He can perform miracles with fish but that's about it. And naturally dad encourages him because fishing's men's business, but anything else to do with food is the woman's domain."

Jack laughed too. Sounded like his father, except Ned had been of the opinion that as the youngest and the one least entitled to claim the Quade name, kitchen duties fell to Jack, "I think I'm going to like you."

... "God, it's been a while since I had food so nice that someone else made," Jack said. "My last landlady used to have me over all the time but she's in a retirement home now."

"Yeah, I heard. Something about your place burning to the ground."

"You wouldn't believe how hard it is to burn a duplex to the ground without so much as scorching the places on either side," he said.

"Did you lose anything important?" she asked. Fire was a constant concern in the farming community – fire and drought. Both could destroy livelihoods and irreplaceable memories.

"The worst I lost was a couple of rare books – hard to replace, but no sentimental value. In the meantime, I'm stuck with a copy of War and Peace that I got from Dymocks. Everything else – mostly photos – someone else had the negatives or at least a copy I could have doubled."

Gabrielle stuck her tongue out playfully. "Poor bub. I'd love to have the patience or intelligence to read a book like War and Peace, you're whinging that you have to make do with a chainstore-bought copy."

"I'm not whinging!"

"Yes, you are. Or maybe that's your passive-aggressive way of bragging that you read books like that." She was thoroughly enjoying herself. Jack was an intellectual snob trying to come across as an Average Joe, and it was fun to make him squirm.

Jack suddenly wished he had popcorn to throw at her. Actually, he wished he had popcorn and a good movie to watch with her. "God, I'd forgotten how to have fun," he said ruefully. "With everything that's been happening..." he trailed off, realising he'd stumbled onto the territory he'd been trying to avoid all night.

"What happened between you last night?" Gabrielle asked quietly. "Is she serious about wanting you to marry her?"

"Yeah. I think she played me from day one. I – I don't know how much you know about me from hospital gossip but about eighteen months ago I got Charlotte pregnant – we'd been dumped by a girlfriends the same day and it was just drunk pity sex... anyway, I didn't come around to the idea, didn't look forward to the idea of being a dad until shortly before she miscarried. I thought it was Karma punishing me for being such a jerk about it. Ever since, it hasn't taken much for me to think about it – sometimes I'm in the park and I see a young family with a kid – baby girls about a year old are always the hardest, 'cos that's how old Tara would be now – I want that so badly it's this ache in my chest. She had this knack of making me open up about myself and she knew how I felt about having kids. She claims it was an accident but I don't believe her. I think she was determined to be a surgeon's wife and she saw me as the easier play. She's a manipulative bitch, but she's brilliant at it."

"Jack, you can't be serious about giving in to her. Have you thought about offering her money? Surely you can round up some cash –"

"I've thought about that. Her heart is set on being married to a surgeon. She's got nothing to gain by taking whatever cash I can get hold of and everything to lose – she becomes a single mother who doesn't even have the respect of having been married. From her perspective, she's better off getting rid of it – " she saw Jack flinched just at this euphemism, no way could he bring himself to call it 'abortion' " – and starting all over again with someone else."

"Jack, how can this mean that much to you that you'd do this to yourself – to your kid? Everyone will be miserable. I bet even Deanna hasn't thought how unhappy she'll be."

"Don't I know it," Jack said bitterly. "My step-mum pulled the same stunt on my dad, except I think dad actually loved her at the time – didn't stop him screwing around something chronic. My step-mother Stella is a horrible woman and I imagine a big part of it is that dad never wanted to be married and eventually she knew it, but not until it was years too late. It ruined both their lives, my brother's lives, my life, all 'cos she wanted the respectability of being married. Believe me, I know where that path leads."

"Then why... why, if you of all people know where that path leads, are you even thinking about this? There'll be other kids, Jack. Kids with women that you love and want to be married to... or who will be happy not to be married for some warped claim to respectability. Let her go through with it. You won't be able to live with the consequences."

"And I can't live with the consequences if she has an abortion," he whispered. There, he'd said that ugly word. "You don't understand. You don't understand what it's like to know you weren't wanted... that everyone who's life you touched would have been happier if you weren't born. The idea of that being done to my own kid and me not doing everything in my power to stop it . I'd say I can live with myself a lot more giving her what she wants than I can knowing I let her kill my child."

There it was. It suddenly all made sense why he was even thinking about giving into Deanna's blackmail. She had only known him for just over a day, but her heart broke for him. She had grown up with two parents and a brother who loved her, for all she had constantly fought with her brother. She had never known what it was like to be unwanted. She intellectually grasped that some people weren't ready to be parents and had abortions or adopted their children out, but she had never given any thought for how unwanted some of those adoptees must feel. "Look, what's the likelihood it's even yours?" she asked, grasping at straws.

"Thought of that too," he said. "There's a possibility and I'll get a paternity test – and don't worry, I've got some pretty loyal friends at AUMEL who'll make sure she doesn't try to interfere with the results – but she's too longsighted to jeopardise her plans by having it not be mine... or having something that shouldn't come up in my blood test." He gave a grin of bitter irony. "The funny thing is, when I first found out how manipulative she was, my biggest concern was that she'd been playing around and had passed something onto me – I'm a surgeon, I have my patients to worry about as well as my own health – but I doubt that's a concern now. I'd put money on the fact she was faithful. She had too much at risk by being not." He rolled his head back against the couch and wished that just by closing his eyes, it would all go away. "I'm stuck, Gabs. I can't make her see how miserable we'll be and I can't let her kill my child."

"C'mere." She drew Jack into her arms, and he passively accepted the embrace. She didn't say anything; there was nothing she could say that would make it better. But maybe if he knew he had someone he could talk to – she stroked his hair and wondered if it was bad karma to pray for someone to miscarry.

* * *

"OK, here's the deal. You are going to give me a paternity test – and don't try to interfere with the results, I'm sending it to a friend who's very loyal."

"If he's so loyal, what's to stop him from interfering with the results himself?" Deanna jeered.

"I'm not trying to get out of admitting paternity," Jack said wearily. "You know that. That's why you chose me, isn't it?" he met Deanna's eyes. He was beginning to notice that whenever he hit on the truth of her manipulative, calculated ambition, there was a look in her eyes – a cold, hard look that confirmed his suspicions. "And he is a she. And a known feminist, too. She's not likely to help someone weasel out of paternity, even a friend. Secondly, I drew this up." He handed her a contract. "It forfeits any responsibility on my part for any debts you've incurred up til now or the duration of our... relationship. I have no intention of ruining my credit rating by footing the bill for whatever tastes you have. I know you can't have afforded this lifestyle on a nurse's salary and I don't intend on being the latest man to keep you in the style you've grown accustomed to." He spoke the words with relish, emphasising the comparison between her and a prostitute – a charming, talented courtesan, but a prostitute nonetheless. And he got a kick out of seeing her flinch because of it. "Since I don't think you'll be wanting a divorce anytime soon, I'm willing to trade this for a prenup."

Exactly how stupid did you think I was? Jack wondered resentfully when he saw the look, barely detected, of disappointment on her face. Did he think he didn't have the smarts to do some digging and find out she owed over twenty thousand dollars in various personal loans and credit card debts? He'd actually been kind of impressed that she'd afforded a lifestyle beyond her salary through debt as opposed to getting some man to fund it in return for sex, like his mother had. And some of those debts were way overdue, too. No wonder she was so keen to get married – she needed someone with the cash to pay off her debts. Jack was gambling on the fact she wanted to be married to a surgeon more than she wanted her debts paid off. Besides, she probably figured she could access the money some other way, and he'd already planned for that.

Deanna's mind was ticking over. Jack must think she was stupid if she didn't know the value of his Bondi place, mostly paid off. Not to mention his future earnings as a rising surgeon. She'd rather that than her immediate debts being paid off. Besides, she was sure she could get hold of his money some other way. She would be his wife, the mother of his child. She had rights, legally and morally. She accepted the document. "I'll have a lawyer look over it," she said stiffly, although she was sure Jack knew plenty of high-flying lawyers from his AUMEL days and had a watertight contract. He'd have a pretty good case for not being responsible for his current debts, anyway, watertight contract or not.

"Thirdly," Jack continued. "You do anything to endanger the health of my child –" he stressed the my, because he doubted there was a maternal bone in Deanna's body so he figured the child was more his than hers, " – smoking, drinking, soft cheese – yes, Deanna, I know all about the things pregnant women can't eat or drink, so don't look at me like that – and I will take great pleasure in having you out on your ass and you can see exactly how far you'll get as a single mother who's too selfish and evil to put her unborn child before her own indulgent behaviour."

Deanna glared at Jack. She had no doubt that if there was anything wrong with the child that could possibly be blamed at her door, Jack was selfish enough to place it there. "You think you're so great, Mr. High-and-Mighty surgeon," she spat. "You got me pregnant. You want to talk about selfish? You were too selfish to use a condom."

"Oh, cut the crap, Deanna. You assured me I didn't need to use a condom. You want to be married to a surgeon so badly – and I bet you didn't even care which surgeon, I was just the easiest mark to you – you screwed around with your birth control. Well, now you've got what you wanted. If you want it that badly that you'll hold my child over my head, well, good for you for being a queen at manipulation. But don't think I'll let you run amok with my finances or jeopardise my child's health. You want it so badly, you'll do as I say. Otherwise, take your chances that anyone in this industry is going to take your vulnerable-girlfriend routine act again."

Their eyes met, and she knew he was just as serious about putting conditions on their marriage as she was forcing him into marriage. But she'd find a way around it. Once they were married, he wouldn't be able to dictate the terms so much. Once the baby was born, as the mother, the parent family law favoured, and more importantly, the stay-at-home parent (like hell he was giving up his higher-paying job, no matter how clucky he was) that family law favoured even more than being the plain old mother, would have far more rights that he did. "Fine," she spat. "But you have a month to get your shit together, Jack. I want to be married and in that gorgeous house, I don't care what you have to do to get those other people out."

"Two," he bargained. "There's six weeks left on the lease." Which was a lie, his tenants were currently in the process of moving out, but Deanna didn't know that and he was buying himself some time – or at least extract him a few more days of freedom.

Deanna looked at him critically. She had no doubt he was trying to buy time, but two months still gave her plenty of time to have an abortion if Jack tried stalling after that. "Fine," she agreed. "But you know I'm serious, Jack. You have two months and if you trying to screw around with me after that, I'll get rid of it."

Jack knew he was stuck. He had known he was stuck when the results of the paternity test – all three of them – came back irrefutably positive. He had just been trying to enjoy what little time he had left before Deanna came down on him. And he knew when she did, there was no getting out of it. She have an abortion and she'd probably leave the foetus in a jar on his doorstep for wasting her time. That would be fun explaining to Dan.

* * *

He didn't tell Dan why he was moving out, just that he had decided it was time he stopped renting when he had a gorgeous beachside house that was his almost free and clear. He wouldn't put it past Dan to try to stop him. Dan would try and stop him, he was that kind of friend. He just would never understand that having a child meant that much to Jack that he would do this to himself. He just said sharing a house with someone wasn't his scene and that with the lease on his Bondi place up, he was moving in – hey, maybe Dan could ask Erica, he'd overheard her saying she found her apartment lonely. Dan had accepted Jack's excuse and suggestion at face value.

So here he was. He remembered a time – it had seemed so long ago, although in reality it had been less than two years – when he'd fantasised about marrying Terri, if only she ever realised how much he loved her and how happy he could make her. Hell, he still had the damn ring in a safety deposit box in the bank. (Good thing he hadn't told Deanna about that, he was sure she'd be demanding it if she knew he was in possession of an eighteen-carat-gold, quarter-carat-diamond ring.) The memory just made his current marriage prospects even bleaker.

"Jack, are you OK?" the celebrant asked him, worried, although Jack certainly hadn't been the first groom-to-be who looked like he was about to throw up, or pass out, or both. But something seemed wrong about this particular ceremony. Something very off – not only in the 'not gelling' sense of the word but in a more literal sense – rotten, stinking. There was no affection between them. They wouldn't be the first couple to get married because of a pregnancy, either, but it was even more than that. The celebrant really didn't feel right doing this, but Jack had bluntly said he would find someone else. For all that didn't seem right between them, this was a man who had made up his mind and was determined to go through with it.

Deanna had tried insisting on a big wedding, and Jack had shot her down straight away. For starters, she was delusional if she thought she could organise a big wedding in the time she'd given him (and he had tried encouraging her to knock herself out planning an elaborate wedding with the eighteen-month timeframe she was need, although he had known it wouldn't fly). Secondly, who would he invite to this travesty? He didn't even know how he was going to tell his sister or his mates after the fact, and he knew if he had told them before the fact, they would have tried to stop him. Thirdly, like hell was he footing the bill for her delusions. At least, no more of a bill than he was already footing. Being married was a high enough price to pay as it was, thankyouverymuch.

So here they were. Here he was. Making a commitment he hadn't seriously thought about until two years ago to a woman he hated. He wanted to throw up. He wanted out and there was no way out, not without giving up what he wanted more than anything else... enough to give into this insanity. And it was insanity. There she was, beaming as if she was a beloved bride at the elaborate white wedding she had wanted so much. Was she just putting on an act so the celebrant wouldn't refuse to marry them, or did she truly believe she was getting what she wanted, what would make her happy? He couldn't read her. But then, he remembered bitterly, he had never really read her – if he had, he wouldn't be in this mess.

The ceremony was over quickly and Jack drove them back in absolute silence, ignoring Deanna's inane chatter, like they were actually married in the eyes of society, each other and whatever spiritual power (Satan, maybe?) she believed in, and not just in the eyes of the law. The tenants he'd had previously had been a family of five, a happily married couple and their three pre-adolescent kids, and what interactions Jack had had with them had been pleasant. They were the kind of family he wanted to be a part of sometime in the future, and they'd made the house his mother had left him and Rebecca so much more a home than she had made it – and so much more a home than he and Deanna would make it, he was sure. Already, there was something cold and empty about it, and Jack knew it wasn't just that it was sparsely furnished.

Deanna sauntered through the house as if she were Queen Elizabeth in Buckingham Palace. It was even nicer than it looked from the outside. And now it was hers. It certainly beat being hocked to the eyeballs in debt to afford her smaller house in a much less nice neighbourhood. "Your mother had great taste," she said.

"She also had a series of boyfriends to fund her lifestyle," Jack said coldly, making it clear that he thought there was some truth to the adage about men marrying their mothers. He went through the layout of the house, even though it wouldn't take her long to work it out herself, the way she was going through it like she owned the place. She probably figured she did. Jack allowed himself a small smile over that. She was in for a surprise. The house had been designed for a family, and the downstairs was divided into two distinct areas. To one side were the three smaller bedrooms, a games room and one bathroom. Splitting the floor up was the kitchen and dining area, and to the other side was a formal lounge room the second downstairs bathroom. The stairs leading to the second floor were discreetly tucked away near the bar, where the master bedroom and ensuite and an entertaining room with a bar area. Jack had already worked it out. "Take your pick of one of the downstairs bedrooms," he said shortly. "Hell, run amok downstairs for all I care, just don't mess up the kitchen. And it had better be no lesser emergency than your waters have broken for you to come upstairs – and never if I'm not at home."

"We're not sharing a room?" Deanna asked. Jack wondered if that radiant look she'd been wearing had been real, and not a put-on. Was she that delusional that she thought signing a piece of paper meant he loved her?

"No."

"What about when she comes?" Deanna, brilliant manipulative despite whatever delusions she might have, had surprised Jack with a framed picture of their daughter a few days ago, knowing full well that whatever doubts he had would crumble at the sight of it. A baby girl, so far in perfect health, a perfect, healthy baby girl that was his – so long as he did 'the right thing'.

"I've spoken to a contractor, it will be easy enough to convert part of the upstairs area into a nursery."

"Since when did you plan that?" she asked.

"Since you don't have a maternal bone in your body and you'd just as likely take a sleeping pill and let her scream then get up and take care of her," he planned. "And I have no intention of letting you put her through that."

"I'm her mother, Jack, I know a damn sight more about it than you do."

"Oh, please. Just because you happen to be in possession of a functioning uterus doesn't make you Mother of the Year. I learnt that from both my mother and step-mother. You should met Stella, actually. You would like her – you two have a lot in common," he finished spitefully. He enjoyed the way Deanna flinched. So she wasn't that delusional. "I didn't know what you wanted so it's just a single bed for now – but anything you want – within reason – just let me know and I'll get it for you."

"I'm perfectly capable of shopping for myself, Jack."

"Not with my credit card, you aren't." He was tempted to say something about the three credit cards she had maxed out, but decided to save that nugget for later. "I'm going to bed. Do whatever you want." His tone made it clear that he didn't care much what that was, so long as she didn't harm his daughter.

He went upstairs and settled on the bed with a book. He had all of fifteen minutes peace before Deanna opened the door and let herself in. Jack cringed when he saw her. She was wearing this filmy, lacy thing that was masterfully designed and did a lot to disguise the fact that she was almost five months pregnant. There was no doubt what she had in mind. "Get out," he ordered her gruffly.

"I'm your wife, Jack," she reminded him gently, walking towards the bed.

"I signed a piece of paper, that doesn't make you my wife," he retorted. "Get the hell out of my room." He stressed the my.

Deanna climbed on top of him. "I'm your wife, Jack," she reminded him again. "We're having a baby together."

She kissed him, and he threw her off as violently as he dared, given her condition. "Don't ever touch me!" he yelled. "Don't you get it? I can't stand it. I'm only doing this because you knew exactly how to push my buttons. So get this through your thick head: I don't love you. I never will, and trying to make me will only make me hate you even more." He got up. "I'm going out," he said. And he wasn't coming back until he'd installed a heavy external door to his bedroom, the kind that you couldn't open without a key.

Deanna watched him go, seething with fury. No doubt he was going to stay with his bitch sister. Deanna had first met her the day Nelson had meant to be married. She hadn't been invited to the wedding, of course – she had, after all, been the replacement for the groom – but Jack had come in following Kerry's hospitalisation, and Rebecca had come with him. Deanna and Jack hadn't been together at that point, but she had been keen on him, and Rebecca had picked up on that. And possessive as she was, she had been nasty to her. When she and Jack had started dating, Rebecca had become even nastier. And Jack, devoted to his sister as he was, had let Rebecca be nasty. It was one of the things Deanna had planned on rectifying once she had secured a strong enough hold in Jack's life – and heart. But things had gone awry and now he was no doubt going to spend the night with that cow, rubbishing her.

She picked up the photo of them that he'd put on his bedside table. It was from the tragic wedding day. They looked very happy together and what struck Deanna was that since they didn't look alike, if you didn't know they were siblings, you could mistake them for a couple. Which only made Deanna more bitter. It should be a photo of them on his dresser. It should be their bedroom, not his while she was relegated to a downstairs children's room.

Screaming with rage at how things had turned out, Deanna threw the frame across the room where it shattered across the floor. It made her feel better. She crossed the room and, sifting through the broken glass, she picked up the photo and ripped it in half, then quarters and then eighths. She knew the photographer had initially refused to sell Rebecca the photo and Rebecca had done a lot of fast talking to get it. She'd have a hard time getting another copy. She left the mess for Jack to find whenever he got home. The destruction of his precious photo would serve him right for abandoning her on their wedding night.

* * *

He didn't go to Rebecca's. He couldn't bear to admit what he had done, not when he was in this vulnerable mood. Instead, he went to Gabrielle's. At least she already knew about it. She wasn't exactly surprised to see him. He had never spoken about his plans after the drinks they'd had two months ago, but instinct had told her he was still planning it. She had seen the way he was about wanting a child. Unless Deanna backed down – which, from what little of her Gabrielle had seen, was unlikely – Jack would go through with it. "Come in," she said. "I was just thinking about having a beer except I hate to drink alone." Which was partially true – she did hate to drink alone, it reminded her of all the times her ex had gotten thoroughly drunk by himself – but she hadn't been planning a beer. But Jack looked like he could do with one or two... or maybe half a carton.

She handed him a beer and sat down on the couch with him and let him down it in silence before she got him another. It wasn't until he was halfway through that one that he spoke. "It's done," he said flatly. "This afternoon."

"You married her?" It was phrased as a question, but intended as a statement. He nodded. "Oh, Jack." She wasn't surprised, but she was still disappointed. And the thing was, she couldn't work out why she was disappointed. Part of it was just she liked him well enough and didn't want to see a decent person trapped in a marriage to someone he hated. But it was more then that. She remembered their drink together than night Deanna had first confronted him, the chemistry they'd had, despite the fact she hadn't wanted to get involved with someone so soon... she wasn't jealous, was she?

"Don't," he said when she tried to hug him. "Don't try to be all sympathetic. I made my choice."

"You were manipulated by someone who knew how to push your buttons," she reminded him. "If you'd seduced some fifteen-year-old and got given marriage as an alternative to jail, I wouldn't have any sympathy for you."

"Gabrielle, if you knew me, you would know that isn't the least bit funny," he said. She wasn't to know that he'd been the victim of sexual abuse, but still, it was singularly unfunny.

"Sorry, I wasn't implying anything. Just that you can't just say you made a choice when it was a choice between two lousy options brought about by a manipulative cow. That's why you're here, aren't you? You can't stand being around her. How in God's name do you plan on living with her?"

"Erecting a barricade at the entry to the second floor," he said, and Gabrielle could see that he was serious. "She came onto me tonight," he admitted. "Came into my room and had this spiel about how I was her husband. She seriously thought that because I'd signed a piece of paper, I was her husband in every sense of the word. Like some document negates everything she's done."

"Are you serious?"

Jack nodded. "Did you ever read the Stephen King book _Misery_?" he asked. Gabrielle nodded. "She's like Annie Wilkes. She's delusional to the point of insanity, but she's also insanely brilliant at manipulating the situation to meet her delusions." Gabrielle shivered at the analogy, not just because of its aptness but because Jack may or may not have followed the comparison through to its conclusion – that at a point in the book it because apparent to the reader that Paul or Annie would be the death of each other.

There was silence for a while, then Jack giggled. "But she isn't as smart as she thinks she is. I did some digging, and she has over thirty grand in debts – credit cards and personal loans. That's how she was financing a lifestyle she wouldn't afford on her – your – pay, which, incidentally, was a pleasant surprise because I figured she had some other man on the side. I got her to sign an agreement that I wasn't responsible for her debts, either before or during our marriage, all nice and watertight, which she signed thinking I had plenty of cash she could get her mitts on... except I sold the house to my sister for a dollar, which she will sell back to me for two dollars once Deanna realises I'm not the cash cow she thought I was. Oh, and I had this brilliant accountant set up a trust for my daughter where I put every cent I have and arranged to have my salary to go into it. Bec's a certified accountant - she's got one of those TAFE things, mum left us quite a bit so she wanted to know how to manage it. Anyway – she has the qualifications and knows enough to be the trustee if Sara – that's the accountant – advises her, and Bec delegates money as she sees fit. It's incredibly complicated but on paper, I'm broke." He giggled again, the effect of the alcohol easing the effect of the day on his heart. "I can't wait to see the look on her face when she realises she's married a pauper."

Gabrielle let Jack enjoy his alcohol-induced euphoria. All his confession told her was that he could be just as manipulative as Deanna, his manipulations were just somewhat more justified than hers. She couldn't help but grin when he wasn't looking. The look on Deanna's face when she found out the reality, at least on paper, of Jack's financial situation, would indeed be priceless. God knows she deserved to know how her manipulations had backfired. But beyond that, she felt deeply sorry for Jack. Between Deanna's spite and Jack's hatred, she feared, like in Misery, one of them would be the death of the other... or that this marriage would be the death of them both.


	3. Chapter 3

Deanna found out about Jack's financial situation three days later, and she was furious. She charged through the hospital, quite obviously pregnant, mad as hell and determined to get in a confrontation. "Jack," Mike said, brow furrowed in confusion. "There's a woman claiming to be your wife here. And she looks angry."

Jack cringed. While he didn't expect any more decency from Deanna, he was still peeved that she had shown up to where he worked for a confrontation. "About five-eight and five months pregnant?" Jack asked. Mike nodded. "Let her in."

"You're serious?" Mike asked incredulously.

"You think I'd joke about something like this? Just let her in, OK."

Jack went to sit down, then decided there was no way he wanted to be sitting when she was standing; it gave her body language too much of an edge. "What's so important that you had to barge in when I'm working?" he snapped, although he knew perfectly well what it was about.

"_This_," Deanna spat, holding out a copy of the document pertaining to the trust fund he'd set up. "You think I wouldn't find out?"

"Find out what, Deanna?" Jack asked sweetly. "That I want to provide for my daughter?"

"You _shit_, Jack. I'm your _wife_, I deserve to be treated in a particular... style."

"So you can ruin my credit rating? I don't think so. Did you really think I didn't know about your debts? Really, I was kind of pleased that you were funding your lifestyle on credit. I thought you were like my mother, screwing around on me to get some other poor schmuck to treat you in a particular, er, _style_." Even though it wasn't a good idea to get Deanna riled up, he had to admit, he was enjoying himself. He only wished he could have been there when she'd discovered that on paper at least, he didn't have a penny to his name. "Oh, that reminds me. My sister wants a formal rent agreement – we have squatters rights after a year if there's no binding agreement, and she wants to protect herself."

"Does that little witch even know you've gotten some poor girl knocked up?" Deanna taunted, thinking it would be petty revenge to be the one to tell Rebecca, because knowing Jack, he was too ashamed of her to break the news himself. Well, what did he think he was going to do, stash her away forever more? _Like hell_. She smiled, think what pleasure it would be to have an impressive bargaining chip to use as a wedge between their relationship. The younger woman had been nothing but a thorn in her side, and it was good to have something this big to hold over Jack's head.

"She doesn't know my manipulative ex-girlfriend lied to me about being on the pill, no," Jack retorted. Shit, he'd have to tell her soon; he wouldn't put it past Deanna to tell Rebecca in the worst possible way. Rebecca was no fan of Deanna's, but she had little respect for people who didn't take responsibility for birth control; she and Jack were both the product of such a woman.

"You'll pay for this," Deanna hissed. She went to slap him, but Jack caught her in mid-strike and pulled her towards him. It was awkward, holding her against him in her condition, but he managed it. He even managed to get a dig in at her.

"I remember when you used to fit into my body perfectly," he taunted. She scowled, and he knew he'd hit a nerve. "And how exactly am I going to pay? I don't have anything, remember? But I'll do you a deal. That twenty grand you owe? I'll give a thou to your creditors – pick whichever one is hassling you the most – every month so long as you take excellent care of yourself. That should keep the wolves from the door for a bit."

"And what happens when she's born?" Deanna asked sulkily, her mind ticking over. She'd planned on finding a way to make Jack pony up for the entirety of her debts, but five grand was better than nothing.

"Don't play coy with me. You know perfectly well that I make more money that you so it makes more sense for you to be the stay-at-home parent." Besides, she'd seriously underestimated how much clout he had as an AUMEL alumni. The prestigious university had a blacklist that Deanna was now on, and there were enough AUMEL alumni in plum positions within Sydney's medical community that her resume would never see the light of day in many hospitals. "You do your job and we'll see. And I told you I'll pay for any expenses you have, just don't go overboard. And don't try paying for then first, if someone will still accept your credit cards, and then think I'll refund you, because if you've gone crazy, I won't. You've ruined my life enough as it is, damned if you're ruining my credit card rating on top of it."

He let her go with such abruptness that she stumbled backwards. She glared at him hatefully. She couldn't believe Jack had actually had the smarts and the manipulativeness to pull this off, right under her nose. She should have realised something was up when he'd been willing to trade a pre-nup for absolution on her debts. Well, she wouldn't let him fool her again. Besides, once the baby was born, she'd have plenty of leverage over him. "Fine," she said. "I'll go shopping today. I'll have you know, Jack, you have appalling taste in furniture. That bed is killing my back."

"You weren't complaining when you were spending nights in my arms," he returned. Lord, why didn't he just throw her out rather that engaging in this infantile exchange of insults with her? He wondered how she had gotten in the front door, anyway. After Jack himself had testified Deanna had made up the allegations about Frank, she had been banned from ever working at the hospital again. And she wasn't exactly in a position to use her seductive skills against the guards. Maybe she had other skills of persuasion that he didn't know about – God knew, he had been so infatuated with her that he'd let his dick do his thinking for him.

* * *

"Charlotte, do you know anything about Jack being married? With a baby on the way?" Mike asked, trying to be discreet, although it was kind of hard, the way people gossiped in the ED. The gossiped everywhere, but the ED seemed to attract it more than anywhere else. Maybe it was just because Dan and Erica could have set up shop as gossip gurus. No wonder Jack had moved out. Mike had always wondered how the man, who was highly secretive about his private life, ever managed to live with someone who loved a piece of gossip so much.

Charlotte made a face of utter confusion. "Mike, have you been inhaling too much anaesthetic or something?" she asked. "_I'm_ the one who's pregnant, remember. Jack tells me everything, I'd know something like that." Although the truth was, she and Jack weren't as close as they had been since she'd fallen pregnant – he was trying to respect that Spence was the alpha-male in her life, although some days she would have much preferred Jack's sweetness and consideration to Spence's cracks about being fat and shacking up with Zoe.

Overhearing the conversation, Gabrielle piped up, "Is she a little shorter than me – about one-seventy or so – blond hair – little darker than mine? She'd be about... five months pregnant by now?" Mike nodded. "No joke."

Charlotte looked at Gabrielle with a mixture of confusion and dawning horror. _Good Lord, she's not talking about Deanna... is she?_ the older woman wondered. _She can't be. They barely know each other_. But then Charlotte remembered how Jack had treated Gabrielle badly on her first day and taken her out for an apology drink that night... and Gabrielle had come into work the next day, still sour of their run-in with Jack's ex. She had been reluctant to talk about what had transpired – was that why? Had Deanna tracked him down to announce her pregnancy? And if so, how had she wrangled Jack into marrying her? He hated her. It had to be a joke. Gabrielle had to be mistaken. Mike too. "What do you know?" Charlotte demanded.

Gabrielle took a step back from the force of Charlotte's demanding gaze. "It's not my place to say," she said, wishing she'd never poked her nose in. "It's just something that, uh, came up."

"It _came up_? You've known him for a few months and he just confides stuff like that in you?" Charlotte asked incredulously, a little resentment that Jack had taken to confiding with someone he'd known for such a short while when they had been close for over a year mixed in with horror and sympathy for Jack.

Gabrielle shrugged, feeling trapped. She couldn't betray Jack's confidence, but she felt awful for coming between Jack and Charlotte like this. Well, how was she to know that Deanna would confront him at the hospital and Mike would go to Charlotte for answers? And now Jack was going to be mad at her for adding fuel to the flames of what was already an impressive firestorm of gossip... even if she _had_ told him there was no way he could keep something like this a secret. "I think you should talk to Jack," she said helplessly.

Charlotte stared at Gabrielle, willing her to give up whatever information she had. It occurred to her that the reason Jack had apparently gravitated to her was that they were equally stubborn and secretive. Finally, seeing she couldn't get anything out of Gabrielle by appealing to her personally, she yelled for Frank. "Apparently Jack got Deanna pregnant and married her and Gabrielle knows something that she's not giving up," Charlotte complained.

Frank stared at Charlotte in much the same way Charlotte had stared at Gabrielle, confusion and horror mixed in with the fact that Charlotte was clearly put out that Jack had chosen to confide in someone he barely knew, as opposed to someone he was close to and had been through so much with. "Excuse me?" he finally asked.

"Jack. Got. Deanna – Charlotte started to say slowly, but Frank waved at her impatiently.

"I heard you," he said gruffly. Good Lord, had that conniving witch managed to secure herself a place in Jack's life permanently? She was more manipulative than any of them had given her credit if she had deliberately gotten pregnant, knowing it was Jack's Achilles heel. It had been clear to Frank – and would have been to Charlotte, had she not been so blissfully ignorant in the happiness of her current pregnancy – that he was taking Charlotte's pregnancy hard and that he had neither either gotten over her miscarriage, or the longing to be a father. Wether Deanna had deliberately preyed on that vulnerability or had just lucked into it was a stroke of genius or phenomenal good luck – for her, of course. For Jack and the rest of them, not so much. Although it wouldn't explain why he would go and marry her. Everyone who had any claim to knowing Jack knew what his feelings of marriage in that situation were; his own childhood was ruined, his brothers' attitude towards sex and fidelity horribly skewered because of their dad being pushed into marriage, No way would Jack go down that path – certainly not with someone he couldn't stand. "I just don't understand what possessed him. Where did you hear?"

Charlotte pointed towards Mike. Mike shrugged. He'd come into the game too late to know the full back story, only that the woman Gabrielle had replaced had been a nightmare-and-a-half. "She just showed up in the surgeon's lounge an hour ago," he said. "Anyone care to fill me in?"

"Ask Gabrielle," Charlotte said. "She seems to be the expert on Jack these days."

"Ask Gabrielle what?" Dan asked, coming up behind them. He was dying to know what had gotten into his friend and former housemate lately. Things had been going great for them – much better than Dan had expected, because everyone knew Jack had a strong secretive streak and even stronger homophobic one. But they had gotten along well, so long as Dan respected that Jack had an abnormally high need for personal space, and Dan had actually come to enjoy having someone around who was so knowledgeable. Then a few weeks ago, he had given Dan some vague excuse about needing his own space and moving to his Bondi place. Dan had tried not to be hurt by Jack's sudden coolness towards him; if Gabrielle – or anyone, for that matter – knew what was bugging him, he wanted to know.

"Nothing," Gabrielle, Charlotte, Frank and Mike said at the same time.

Dan looked at them incredulously. "A nothing Gabrielle knows about?" he asked. _Yeah, right_. His mind started ticking over, thinking about the very public spat Jack and Gabrielle had had on her first day. They'd made no secret of the fact he'd taken her out for apology drinks that night, Dan remembered partly because she had come in the next day still a little rattled by their run-in with Deanna. Dan smiled at the memory. He wished he'd been there; for Deanna to come across another woman with 'her' keys and 'her' boyfriend would have been a sight worth paying for. "Is it about Deanna?" Dan asked.

"No," Gabrielle, Charlotte, Frank and Mike said at the same time.

"So that means it is. OK, come on. This is Jack and Deanna, remember? It was the biggest scandal to hit this hospital since, well – Jack and Charlotte," he couldn't resist adding. Charlotte gave him a pained look, then just because it made her feel a bit better, shot one at Gabrielle. She should know how to keep her staff in line. "How long do you think you can keep it a secret?" If four of them already knew, six including Jack and Deanna themselves, then it wouldn't be long before the whole hospital knew. And Dan wanted in.

"She's pregnant and apparently they're married," Mike finally offered, ignoring Frank's warning look. At least six people already knew, and Dan was right in that regard, how long did Frank think they could keep it quiet? God knew how many people Deanna had passed demanding that she see Jack (how _had_ she gotten past security anyway?), it wasn't exactly easy to hide her condition.

Dan laughed. "Funny. Didn't know surgeons had such good imaginations." The look on Mike and Gabrielle's faces told him it was actually true. In fact, come to think of it, Jack and Gabrielle had often been seen talking in the last two months. No-one had thought much of it because it was always in a visible space, just with voices low, and everyone knew how destroyed Jack had been when he'd found out about Deanna's betrayal – no way was he getting involved with someone he worked with again. "What in God's name...?" he started to ask. What would possess Jack to _marry_ Deanna over a child? He hated her. It had been several weeks after moving in until he'd ever opened up about it. So why would he do it? "I vote we call Bec," he said.

"Good idea," Charlotte agreed. Rebecca always knew everything about Jack... and a fair bit about the people he worked with, too, which Charlotte had found a little disconcerting. "Frank, we're borrowing your office," she said to her boss, leading Dan and Mike before Frank could say anything about it.

Forty-five minutes later, Rebecca Rowe would have just about _flown_ through the doors of the ED had she not needed to be buzzed in. "You must be Bart," she said in a snippy voice when the young doctor finally let her in on Erica's approval. In the short year she had known she had an older brother, she had first come to adore him and soon after so thoroughly ingrained herself in his life that most of his friends and colleagues recognised her; subsequently, almost everyone knew to let her through the triage doors when she showed up as if she were one of their own. Everyone, that was, except Bart.

"Yes," Bart said, wondering, not displeased, how this attractive young woman – only a few years younger than him, by the looks of her – knew his name. Had someone been speaking highly of him? "How did you know?"

"Short, follows the rules to the point of stupidity, acts like a skittish virgin," Rebecca said. She could be as poisonous as Deanna when she was in a foul mood. It was little wonder the two women had hated each other on the spot.

Erica managed to cover up her laughter with a coughing fit. It was bitchy, but there was a tiny bit of truth in it. "Bec, did Jack actually say that or did you, um, embellish on it?" she asked, knowing that Rebecca had embellished on it. She did an insanely hilarious caricature of Deanna, too. The woman could be bitchy, but in an intelligent, witty way. That made her fun company, but Erica never wanted to get on her bad side – as Bart had just done.

"Well, he's short, and he follows the rules to the point of stupidity, doesn't he?" Rebecca asked. She was pissed off, first from what Charlotte had told her and secondly because this twerp didn't know that she was almost one of the staff here, and not in the mood to be placated. "Guys like that don't get laid. Where's my brother?"

"He's in surgery," Erica said calmly. "What's the problem?"

"Rick, we'll take care of this," Dan said, poking his head from around the door to the office Frank and Gabrielle shared, he had recognised Rebecca's voice too late to stop her from insulting Bart. "Come in," he said to Rebecca. Slightly placated that she was now dealing with Dan instead of some inept virgin who didn't know who belonged and who didn't, she marched in the direction of the door, for once looking every bit the sullen teenager that she was – at least for another few months. "Sorry about that," Dan said. "Bec's used to everyone knowing who she is."

"Who the hell was that?" Bart asked as the door shut behind them where Frank, Gabrielle and Charlotte were waiting. He was red from anger and embarrassment at being spoken to like that, let alone in public. He wasn't _that_ short, although she'd had several inches on him with her heels. And just because there had only been a few women didn't mean – "_She_ looks like the type who would sleep with anyone who'd have her," he added spitefully.

"She's Jack's sister and she's used to everyone here knowing who she is and letting her in," Erica explained. "And I suggest you never repeat what you just said to either of them. They're kind of sensitive about promiscuity." She glanced at the door. Rebecca had been in a foul mood when she'd arrived; she wouldn't have lashed out at Bart over something as inane as him not knowing who she was. Either Charlotte or Dan had called her because something major was going on with Jack – although what Frank and Gabrielle had to do with it, Erica had no idea. "I wonder what it's about," she mused...

... "I had no idea," Rebecca raved when Gabrielle finally admitted what she knew. It was one thing for her to advise Jack to tell Rebecca while not interfering herself when the younger woman was just a theoretical person, it was quite another when she was standing not a meter away from her, eyes full of fury – and hurt. "He told me about this trust he had set up – in practice it's being managed by someone else, but I'm the head trustee because he said he _trusts_ me. It puts everything he's got under my control. On paper, he's got nothing. I even own the Bondi house now. I didn't understand why he'd want to do that."

"This is... insanely brilliant," Charlotte said. Rebecca had brought over a copy of the trust document, and Charlotte was skimming over it. "Man, I need to look into some of these laws. It's a freaking tax haven! Oh, sorry," she added guiltily when she remembered what they were talking about. This was a brilliant piece of legal footwork. Deanna could spend tens of thousands in legal fees trying to break this trust and still lose. "If it's any consolation, this is one thing Jack doesn't have to worry about." She chuckled. "Man, I would have _loved_ to have seen the look on her face when she realised what he'd one. Sorry," she said again, realising she was making a mockery of the awful situation someone she cared about had found himself in – and in front of his sister, too. She was always sticking her foot in it like that – and she'd thought she'd gotten over it when Terri Sullivan had left and there was no-one around to take offense to her cracks about the Catholic church.

"Will someone explain something which I guess is obvious to everyone else – _why_?" Mike asked. "I wouldn't marry someone just 'cos they were pregnant. I'd let her have an abortion."

"Our mum would have had an abortion, but she left it too late," Rebecca admitted. "That's all I know. Jack never talks about it but I can't imagine how much that would colour your opinion on it."

"It's not that," Dan said. "Look, Charlotte, Ricki noticed it too – we just didn't want to burst your bubble. But Jack's taking your pregnancy _really_ hard. Hell, it never occurred to me that he might have actually been upset when you miscarried, let alone that it might still affect him. He – well, anyway, he wants a child so badly, I think if the devil offered to trade his surgical career for it, he'd do it. And don't forget Deanna's insanely manipulative. She knows exactly what buttons to push." He made a face, thinking of the destruction Deanna had caused in the department while pursuing her own ends. At the time, he and Jessica had been angry at Jack for being the backer that enabled Deanna to wreak her havoc, but now he felt profound pity for him. Frank had recovered from his heart attack; this would ruin Jack's life.

The six of them sat in silence for a little while, each contemplating their own thoughts, until they heard footsteps coming down a remarkably quite hallway. Jack wrenched open the door, his face dark with anger. "You," he barked, and although he could have just as easily been referring to Dan or Gabrielle – people he considered friends who shouldn't have been talking about him behind his back – Rebecca jumped up, looking guilty as sin. "Come with me."

As soon as Rebecca was within his grasp, he grabbed her wrist and yanked her out of the office and out of the ED. "Ow, you're hurting!" she yelled at him.

"And you're in _my_ workplace, talking to _my_ friends and _my_ boss about something that is none of your goddamn business!" he returned. He had gotten out of surgery to be greeted by an angry message on his phone from Rebecca, shrilly demanding to know what the hell was going on with Deanna and why the hell hadn't he told her anything – except she hadn't said it that nicely. And now here she was, _gossiping_, he was sure, with friends, colleagues and his _boss_.

"_None of my business_?" Rebecca asked incredulously. "You get that bitch pregnant, _marry_ her, palm your assets off onto me so she can't get her greedy mitts on them, and it's _none of my business_?"

"No, it's not!" Funny how she suddenly reminded him of Jessica, who he'd considered to be an opinionated pain-in-the-ass. "It's my life!"

"What, and your life _doesn't_ include a sister? The only family you give a shit about – or claim too, anyway," she added bitterly.

"Oh, Bec, don't be like that. You know I give a – you know I love you. Here, come here." He tried to hug her, but she fought him.

"How could you not tell me about this, Jack?" she asked. She felt so betrayed by him. "And how come you can confide in that nurse – what's her name? - Ariel?"

"Gabrielle," Jack corrected, letting go of the fact she'd deliberately gotten the name wrong. "She was there the night Deanna confronted me, and it was easier to keep confiding in her rather than admit it to anyone else," he said. "I felt – I still feel – so used. It's what she wanted from day one, to get me to fall for her and do the right thing and marry her when she fell pregnant. She just didn't expect things to end so badly between us."

"Then why –?"

"Because she's got the most screwed up value system of anyone I've ever met." After all, what was a heart attack when you could eliminate an adversary and keep your plum job, all the while drawing your boyfriend closer to you? "She cares more about the prestige of being a surgeon's wife than she does being married to someone who loves her."

Rebecca shivered. She had disliked Deanna from the moment she had lied eyes on her, in the ED after Nelson and Kerry's tragically aborted wedding. There had been something so possessive about her – and the feeling had been mutual. Deanna had no more been keen on her boyfriend having a super-close sister than Rebecca had been of her brother having such a possessive, manipulative girlfriend. She had broken out the champagne – cost her the better part of a fortnight's study allowance – when Jack had told her they'd broken up. Good riddance to bad rubbish, she'd thought. But now Deanna was back, and much harder to get rid of this time.

A rare moment of maturity way beyond her years flickered in her. She hated Deanna almost as much as Jack did, but for his sake, she couldn't berate him for the choice he had made. She couldn't understand why it was so important to him – but she couldn't berate him either. "I'm going to be an aunt," she said faintly.

He smiled weakly, glad she had cut him some slack, at least for the time being. "yeah," he said. "To a girl. You can do all the girly things with her that you reckon mum never did with you." That got a genuine smile out of her, as Rebecca was lost in thought for a few seconds of fantasies that involved pink ribbons, barbie dolls, ruffled dresses and dance lessons. "Look, I don't feel like going home just yet – how about you leave your car here and we go and get drunk? You can see what I've done with the place and I'll drive you home tomorrow."

Rebecca agreed, and the two of them spent the night playing catch-up, drinking consummate amounts of alcohol and steering clear of anything that involved Deanna, including her pregnancy and recent marriage. "You've drunk-proofed the upstairs," she giggled when Jack helped her upstairs to the social area that was adjacent to the master bedroom so she could crash on the couch.

"I think that's actually called baby-proofing," he said dryly, but he supposed it had the same effect of protecting someone who was too unco-ordinated and aware of the dangers to protect themselves. He'd replaced the railings – so easy for a baby to crawl through and fall to the storey below – with heavy wooden panelling, buffeted with foam that was discreetly hidden with rich taffeta curtains that were nailed to the floor – his daughter was going to have a hard time tangling herself up in them for years to come. He'd already had a heavy external door installed at the top of the stairs – first and foremost so Deanna couldn't make her way to his room again, but it had the added benefit that his daughter couldn't get down the stairs, should she managed to get out of her crib and crawl around while he was distracted. OK, so maybe he had gone a little overboard, but better to be too concerned than not concerned enough, in his opinion.

"It's nice," she said. "It's a nice house for a family." Except for the witch installed downstairs, of course.

The next morning, Rebecca came downstairs to see Deanna at the table. It unnerved Rebecca to know end the way Deanna was casually leafing through the morning paper as if she owned the place. Well, Rebecca would take great pleasure in setting her straight on _that_.

Deanna met Rebecca's eyes. It had been almost six months since she had last seen the girl, and she had to admit, she was just as pretty as ever. It made Deanna all-too-aware of her bloated body – but that was a weapon in itself. "Rebecca," she said sweetly to her sister-in-law. "It's been so long. Almost six months." She slid her hand down to her stomach triumphantly.

Rebecca glared at Deanna was cold hate. "You don't look too good," she said. "Have you put on weight?"

There, that wiped the triumphant smirk over Deanna's face. But not for long. "Perhaps if your own mother had possessed any maternal instincts, you would appreciate the beauty that is carrying a child," she said sweetly.

_I swear to God I will find a way to destroy you that doesn't hurt Jack_, Rebecca thought. What had Jack ever seen in this conniving bitch? She changed tack. "This is a wonderful place, isn't it? I was so pleased when Jack let me have it. Which reminds me – I'm going to need a rental agreement from you guys. You know I love Jack to pieces, but what with all those leeches out there, the last thing I need is no legal agreement and leaving myself wide open to squatter's rights, hey?"

Deanna glared. She couldn't believe Jack had been conniving enough to offload all his assets onto his sister. She had spoken to her own accountant who had practically drooled at the brilliance of the trust. He had then told her bluntly that she could waste tens of thousand dollars on his and various lawyer's services trying to break it up, and all she would get out of it was a debt of tens of thousands of dollars. She hated that smug smile on Rebecca's face. She had no doubt Rebecca was spiteful enough to have them both thrown out as illegal squatters if they both didn't sign a lease. "Absolutely," she agreed. "After all, I want my daughter growing up in a proper home with legal rights." She rubbed her stomach. "You'll understand when you're older."

The two women glared at each other in cold hate. The battle lines were drawn.

* * *

"Hey, are you doing anything tonight?"

Gabrielle spun around to see Jack addressing her. She hadn't seen much of him lately; he had been throwing himself into his surgical work and getting his house ready for his daughter. But they'd had the opportunity to catch up over coffee a few days ago, and they'd gotten talking. He was a very interesting man who made her laugh and think – two things she hadn't enjoyed in vast quantities in some time. She was sorry so much of his time was tied up, sorry that his life was tied to such a horrible woman... although whenever the subject of his daughter's impending birth came up, his whole face lit up. He'd been to every ultra-sound, every check-up, ever prenatal class. He hated Deanna, but that didn't stop him from enjoying every development of his daughter's body. Gabrielle had no doubt she would bring him a lot of joy after she was born, even if he could barely stand being around her mother.

"No," she said. "I've got no plans – other than the rosters." She made a face. "I don't know how Dan managed to do it. He's not the most organised person in the world, and he had no admin experience. Yet all I hear from Frank is how brilliant Dan was at balancing the rosters so everyone was happy and we never had a staff shortage. What's so funny?" she asked when she saw his lips curve up in a smile.

"I was doing them," Jack admitted. "I'm good at stuff like that... look, I'll do you a deal. Remember that TV show I was telling you about? _Carnivale_?" Gabrielle nodded; their last conversation had turned to Jack's eclectic taste in film and television, and he had mentioned a David Lynch-esque show that sounded interesting. "Deanna's on some pre-natal retreat thing – it's costing me an absolute fortune but it gets her out of my hair for a week. I'm actually a bit starved for company and I was wondering if you, you know, wanted to come over for a marathon or something. Just as a mate," he added.

She had to laugh at that. Jack was married and expecting his first child in a matter of weeks, there wasn't any other way to take his invitation that out of friendship. Besides, she was a bit starved for company herself. It was hard making friends when you were the NUM – the nurses were constantly complaining when you didn't come through for them and never grateful when you did, and the doctors looked down on you while expecting miracles from you and your staff and blame you when you didn't perform. But Jack had never looked down at her, and often had a helpful suggestion about how to run her staff and the ED. The fact that he had dated two of her predecessors had _some_ benefit. Besides, the show sounded interesting. "Sounds good," she said. "I can make that parmie for you again, if you'd like," she found herself offering.

He hadn't had someone cook for him since the last time Gabrielle had. "It's a deal." They arranged a time and went their separate ways, both looking forward to the evening.

Later that day, he knocked on her office. He looked apologetic. "Look, I just got called in for a surgery and I have no idea when it will finish so –"

She did her best to hide her disappointment. "That's OK, we can make it another night."

"No, that's not it. I just thought if you didn't want to sit around at home waiting for me to call, you can let yourself in and help yourself to whatever's in the bar. Or we can just leave it for another night, whatever suits you best."

The both knew there wouldn't be another opportunity like this. In a few days, Deanna would return, and shortly after that, she would give birth. And Gabrielle was strangely looking forward to spending some time alone with Jack. Just as a mate, of course. The man was _married_. With a _baby_ on the way. "No, I can let myself in," she said.

He stepped forward and pulled his keys out of his pocket. "OK, this one is for the front door and the security screen – code's two-three-two-five-two-two-five, or becjack if you can't remember, just don't tell anyone that – and _this_ one is for the door at the top of the stairs. That's where the master bedroom and upstairs entertaining area is – that's where everything of mine is set up, TV, DVD player. Bar's pretty well stocked and the kitchen's well-equipped. If you think there's anything you need that I've missed I'll give you the money for it and –"

Gabrielle held out her palm in moth a _stop_ motion and a gesture for the keys. "Chicken parmies aren't exactly rocket science, Jack," she said. "I'm sure I'll be fine."

"Sorry," he said. "I just want to have everything, and I don't want to put you out by having to rush out to get something I don't have."

She took the keys. "Go do your surgery,' she said. She let herself laugh when Jack shut the door behind him. It didn't surprise her that he wasn't very used to entertaining women who just mates, neither girlfriends or his sister.

She was thoroughly impressed by his house. It was gorgeous, spacious and right on the beach. But once she stepped inside... there was a coldness to the front section of the house. You could immediately tell that there was no love between the inhabitants of the house.

Upstairs was different. It was clear this part was lived in. Jack was decorated it with his own personal style – masculine, despite the taffeta curtains that disguised the baby-proof foam on the walls, but without screaming that it was a bachelor pad. And he had the _best_ entertainment system – state-of-the-art TV, DVD recorder and stereo player. She flipped through his DVD collection, grinning when she came across a collection of classic moves – _Breakfast at Tiffanys, Gone With the Wind, An Affair to Remember_. So Jack was a romantic at heart – although it didn't surprise her that he liked old movies. She settled in to watch _Gone With the Wind_ and became so absorbed with it – and his excellent taste in wine helped. She was so absorbed that she completely lost track of time.

"I can't get enough of either the movie or the book," Jack's voice interrupted her reverie behind her. She almost dropped her glass.

"Sorry," she said. "I lost track of time."

"It's fine, I grabbed something light before so I won't be really hungry for at least an hour." He leaned against the doorframe and it struck Gabrielle that as unhappy as he was in his marriage, he looked at home here, like he belonged. How much different his life might be if he was sharing this house with someone he loved. "There's something about Scarlett that always resonated with me. Plus, I like the name Ella."

She frowned. "I don't get it."

"In the book she only has one kid – Bonnie – but in the book, she has three, one to each of her husband. There's something about Ella which I just like."

"Ella." She tried the name out. "Ella Quade. It's pretty."

"Rebecca disagrees. She thinks her first niece should be named after her."

Gabrielle laughed at that. From what she had seen of Rebecca Rowe, the young woman was devoted to her brother – but also had a highly inflated sense of how much influence she should have in her brother's life. She stood up. "Come on," she said. "I'll teach you how to cook like a country girl. Your kitchen's too fancy for me, you'd think you were Gordon Ramsey in a past wife."

"Since someone has to be dead for you to be them incarnate, I can't be Gordon Ramsey in a past life," he retorted.

She poked her tongue out at him, feeling ever-so-slightly playful from the wine. "Know-it-all," she sat.

Hours later, they sat on the couch together after far too much wine and beer – but neither of them was feeling drunk. Rather, they shared a feeling of friendship and camaraderie, the kind of euphoria that comes after a night of good food, good wine and good company. "I should go home," she finally said, reluctant to leave Jack's arms. She didn't know how she had ended up lying down with her head on his lap, but she had. It wasn't like it meant anything. He was _married_. With a _baby_ on the way.

"Hey." He saw her stumble and had his hands around her waist before she did. She fell back awkwardly onto him. "No way are you driving home. Either catch a taxi or crash here. My couch has been plenty good enough for Rebecca on more than one occasion."

He didn't make any motion to move her off him and she made none to get off him. "You guys are really close," she said. It was a statement, not a question. "It makes me miss my brother." She had told him all about Ben and their dad. Like him and Rebecca, there was a decent age gap between them, but four years instead of seven, and they were full-siblings who had grown up together. She even remembered when he'd been born.

"I don't think I could stand to not see Bec for that long," he admitted. "C'mon, Gabs, lie down. You can barely stand up." She gave up trying to convince him she could make her way downstairs, let alone drive, and allowed him to fetch her a blanket and tuck her in. She took note of the fact he had a gentle touch – something that would stand her in good stead with his daughter. "My room's right there," he said, pointing to the door. "If you need me. Wake me up before you go, OK? It doesn't feel right not to see a guest out." She settled in under the blanket and watched him go to his own room. When he turned off the light, she closed her eyes and found sleep easily attainable, far more so than Jack was finding sleep these nights, she knew.

She woke up early and for a moment was disoriented until she remembered she'd spent the previous evening with Jack and he'd insisted on her sleeping on his couch. She smiled, remembering how out of it she had been. She wasn't a big drinker – her ex-boyfriend had been, and seeing his drunken behaviour night after night had turned her off binge drinking – but Jack's wonderful company had made it so easy to have another glass of wine or a beer. She hadn't wanted the night to end.

Something inside her told her that she shouldn't be spending such intimate time alone with a married man. And despite the reality of his marriage. Jack _was_ married. She imagined trying to explain to her late mother that she'd spent the evening drinking and then cuddling up to a married man, and knew her mother wouldn't care enough to hear about the extenuating circumstances of Jack's marriage. _Married is married_, she could hear her mother say.

_In the eyes of the law, maybe_, Gabrielle actually found herself arguing back with her dead mother. _No-one but Deanna thinks it's a real marriage_. Then she realised what she was doing and felt like an idiot. Besides, it wasn't like she was planning on _sleeping_ with Jack. They were just mates, that was all.

That thought made her think about how lonely the future would be for Jack. He wasn't legally free to commit to anyone else – yet he wasn't going to get the emotional fulfilment a person needed in a relationship from his wife. She wondered if he had thought about that, and had still decided that his daughter was worth it.

She shook her head as if to clear it of cobwebs. These were Jack's issues, and if she spent too much time thinking about them, she would become almost as miserable as he was. She padded into his bedroom, first knocking and then when there was no answer, opening the door apprehensively. The last thing she wanted to do was walk in on the guy in case he was one of those people who liked sleeping in the nude.

Jack was sound asleep in what looked blue pyjamas. He looked absolutely adorable in them. He looked at peace, and she wondered what he was dreaming about. Fatherhood, maybe? "Jack," she called softly, and he responded by pulling the doona over his head, as if determined not to be woken up.

She sat on the edge of the bed and pulled the doona down. God, he had the most beautiful face, made even more so by the look of peace currently on it. Impulsively, she stroked his face and he made a contended murmuring sounds. _He must be dreaming of something nice, _she thought. She couldn't wake him up now. Well, she still had his keys – she would just let herself out and give them back to him later. "Sweet dreams," she whispered as she left the room, finding herself wishing vehemently for it to be true, both in his sleep and waking hours.

* * *

It was a day that would always be remembered by everyone in the ED that was there that day. Cate, who had been on a downward spiral for months thanks to the negative influence of her friend Jo, had OD'd on a cocktail of drugs. Gabrielle had been waiting for it for some time, watching her subordinate become increasingly unreliable and doped-out, but it didn't make it any easier. Bart had been shot by accident by a grieving father determined to end his own life. That was particularly distressing for Frank, because the man had been out to confront Frank, and Bart had simply gotten in the way. And it was always hard to watch one of their own go down.

And Eleanor Rebecca Quade came into the world. Gabrielle and the rest of the ED staff were so busy dealing with Cate and Bart that no-one heard about it until hours after the fact, and Gabrielle was so busy dealing with Cate that she didn't have the time to go up to paediatrics to see him until almost a day later.

It had been a difficult birth, so the gossip vine went, a breached foetus followed by a caesarean section. Someone crass enough – names weren't being named – had allegedly started odds on her death... which had led to a general sentiment that she wouldn't be missed. Deanna was liked by the paediatrics and surgical staff little more than she was liked by the ED staff. She was rude, arrogant and thought she deserved the best private treatment available – and let the staff who treated her know she considered the public hospital not good enough for her. One paediatrics nurse had finally gotten fed up of her complaining and pointed out that it had been good enough for her when she was working in the ED, and Deanna's wrath had seen the nurse slapped with an official warning. It was generally thought that the world, and Jack Quade in particular, would be better off without her. Gabrielle and the rest of the ED staff heartily shared in this opinion.

But it wasn't to be. She was weak, she was in pain, but she was going to live. Or so the story went – somewhat regretfully.

And so Gabrielle made her way up to the private room – Jack had buckled and organised _that_ for her, although he had knocked her back every time she'd demanded private treatment, or even tried to go to another hospital, because his employment plan covered all the incidentals that any other public hospital wouldn't – a day following Eleanor's birth. _Eleanor Rebecca Quade_. Such a pretty name. She hoped Eleanor, or Ella, took after Jack and Rebecca rather than Deanna. The last thing the world needed was another Deanna Richardson. And that was what everyone insisted on calling her, despite the airs she gave herself about being Mrs. Jack Quade.

Jack was with her when Gabrielle got there. He had pulled the chair right up to her bed, and was holding Eleanor in his arms. He had refused to let the nurse put her in the nursery with the other babies, and Mike had backed him up. "Hey," he said distractedly, and for once, he didn't have a smile for her. He turned back to Deanna, and Gabrielle realised that was because all his smiles were for her. It was as if all the animosity of the last six months had been forgotten. She had given him what he wanted most in the world, helped ease his ongoing heartache over Charlotte's miscarriage – no-one could distract him from that, no-one could remind him that she had forced him into marriage.

"Hi," she said. "I, uh, heard – everyone sends their best wishes." She decided not to tell him about Bart or Cate. No point in putting a dampener on the happiest day of his life.

"Thanks," he said in the same distracted voice. He wouldn't take either arm off his daughter, but he allowed Deanna to snake her hand in under Eleanor's head into the crook of his elbow. He smiled at her again, and even leaned in to kiss her pale forehead. Gabrielle felt squeamish at the token of affection and she told herself it was because she hated to see Jack so deeply fooled by an obvious act of manipulation, and not because she was jealous. It wasn't like there had ever been anything between her and Jack – well, nothing but an initial spark and a flourishing friendship. She had no claim to him, other than as a friend... and as a friend, she didn't want to see him sucked into her manipulations again.

"Is there anything you want?" he asked her gently.

"Can you see about my pain meds?" she asked plaintively. "And something to help me sleep. I can't sleep, there's so much noise." She seemed on the verge of tears, and for once, she wasn't acting. She really was in pain, and she hated having to stay in this stuffy little room. At least it was better than a communal room – Jack was so ga-ga over his daughter that he would give her almost anything she asked her... and she planned on using that to her advantage.

"Sure," he said. "Do you think you can...?" he held Eleanor out to Deanna, and she took her, cradling her in her arms with surprising ease, given she had so far displayed not a single maternal bone. He got out of the chair and turned around, taking the flowers out of her hands and placing them on a table already overflowing with them. "I'll grab a vase while I'm out – if there's any free." The nursing staff might hate Deanna, but they were extremely fond of Jack who, after three years at the hospital, still went out of his way to be considerate towards the nursing staff on _all_ wards. They had responded by rounding up every spare vase for the flowers that were pouring it – for Jack, not Deanna. Jack walked off, a bounce in his step that Gabrielle had never seen in him. He was deliriously happy, and Gabrielle could barely stand that such a conniving bitch had caused his happiness – and would no doubt play on that.

When Jack was gone, Gabrielle noticed just how pale Deanna was. No-one in good health looked that waxy colour. "You don't look too good," Gabrielle said, actually feeling sympathy for Deanna. She got up went to look at her chart.

"Stay away from that!" Deanna barked so loudly and angrily that Gabrielle jumped. "And put her in her crib while you're up. I can barely sit up," she added bitterly, as if Gabrielle was personally responsible for that.

Gabrielle took Eleanor out of Deanna's hands. She knew she shouldn't have been surprised Deanna's facade dropped the second out Jack was out of sight and earshot. She placed Eleanor in her crib, noting that the baby had flecks of green and grey in the blue eyes that were typical of Caucasian babies. She was going to have Jack's eyes. For some reason, the knowledge made her happy. "I should go," Gabrielle said. "I think you need to rest."

"Of course I need to rest, I've just given birth and had my stomach sliced open, I'm in pain, you stupid country bitch," Deanna snapped, and Gabrielle flinched at Deanna's open hostility and wondered if Deanna's resentment of her because of her job and friendship with Jack ran deep enough to hatred.

"I can see I'm not wanted," she forced herself to say in the most civil tone she could manage when she wanted to slap her black and blue – and now she didn't have to worry about hurting the baby.

"Damn straight you're not wanted," Deanna spat. She grabbed Gabrielle's wrist with surprising strength as Gabrielle got up to go. "I know you spent the night with him," she confronted Gabrielle, as if the night in question had been one of tawdry sex instead of just crashing on the couch when she'd been too drunk to drive. "I put up with it until now because I was pregnant but..." Her eyes turned distant, momentarily lost in thought and she smiled an evil, conniving smile that made Gabrielle think of Jack's comparison to Annie Wilkes – although she didn't let go of Gabrielle's wrist. "I've given him what he wants most in the world, and he loves me for it. He doesn't care how we got to this place, only that we _are_ here." Her smile turned into one of contempt. "Oh, don't get me wrong, I know you and Jack never slept together. I know Jack. He's got too much honour to break his marriage vows – which is more than can be said for you or I." Gabrielle felt sickened that Deanna was comparing them. "He loves me," she repeated triumphantly. "He'll do anything for me now – and if you ever fucking forget it, if you step on my turf again, I will see to it that everyone knows you're a stupid little whore who has to chase after another woman's husband than find her own man." She let go of Gabrielle's hand. "You can go now," she said as haughtily as a queen dismissing a subject.

Despite the fact she was a little concerned about leaving Deanna alone with her daughter, who she clearly didn't give a crap about beyond how she could use her as a pawn, Gabrielle was eager to leave. She hurried out of the room, sickened at Deanna's outburst. She truly didn't care about Eleanor, only how she could use her to get what she wanted out of Jack. And even worse, Jack was so in love with his daughter, and with her mother by extension, that she could very well get all she wanted from him, even if it meant compromising everything Jack was in the process.


	4. Chapter 4

"Deanna, please. You know it's best for Ella to be breast feed. Please try."

Deanna gave a pained expression so convincing that Jack actually felt for her. "I'm trying Jack, I really am. But it hurts so much. She hates me."

Part of Jack wanted to remind Deanna that she had brought it all upon herself. But a stronger, more sentimental part was deeply in love with his daughter, and by extension, her mother. Deanna hadn't taken well to motherhood; despite breast milk being a much more nutritious source of food to formula, it was a painful experience for her and Jack had to constantly nag, plead and wheedle to get her to do it. "She doesn't hate you," Jack said gently. He squeezed her arm compassionately, despite the fact touching her still felt awkward to him. "It just takes practice."

"She does too hate me," Deanna sniffled. "She cries all the time when you're not here I can't do anything right. I'm so lonely here by myself all the time, and I can't even make her love me."

"Hey, don't talk like that. Of course she loves you, you're her mum. All babies love their mums." Privately, it wouldn't surprise Jack if Ella really was indifferent to Deanna; she wasn't exactly someone who inspired love from people. But Jack knew she was trying, and he could understand if she was lonely. When he'd done his paediatrics rotation he'd been floored by how many stay-at-home mums expressed the same sentiment; that they were lonely and bored with nothing to do but take care of a baby, no company more scintillating than that of a newborn. And he knew all about being lonely. He found himself blurting out, "Look, why don't you stay with me tonight? Nothing funny, just some company. I know what loneliness is like." Even as the words were coming out of his mouth, he was regretting them. He knew he was bribing her with his company in return for breast-feeding, and he was disgusted with himself, but he was desperate for her to get the hang of breastfeeding.

She sniffled. "You're just feeling sorry for me," she said.

"I am not. Call it... friendly sympathy." God, what crap. The idea of spending the night with Deanna, even not in a sexual context, gave him the creeps. But if it made her feel better, and if feeling better made it easier for her to overcome her aversion to breastfeeding, then so be it.

Deanna nodded and let a frustrated tear slide down her face for good measure. Jack slung his arm casually across her shoulders and she leaned into him. Reluctantly, she unbuttoned her blouse and guided Ella's tiny head to her breast, making sure Jack knew exactly what a trying, painful experience she considered it to be. "Thankyou," Jack said simply when Ella was done. He kissed her cheek lightly, and couldn't help remembering that she'd worn the same perfume the first time they'd gone to bed together. "I'll organise something for dinner, OK? I'll see you tonight." He got up and got ready for work.

Deanna was just about bursting with frustration at Jack taking his sweet time by the time he shut the door behind him. She heard the engine of his car start and him reversing out the driveway. "I thought he'd never leave," she giggled to Ella. She couldn't believe she had managed to convince him that she hated breastfeeding. She considered it a chore, like going to the gym, but it got her the same results – breastfeeding was a great way to keep her weight in check. Combined with the strenuous workouts she'd been doing since she'd recovered from her c-section two months ago and the strict diet she was on, including appetite-suppressers, she was only a few kilos short of her pre-pregnancy weight, and her baby belly looked like nothing more than a slightly rounded stomach. Of course, that just gave Jack more to nag about; he considered her to be too thin for the fact she'd given birth less than three months ago, and that wasn't good for Ella.

She scowled at that thought. It was always about Ella. He was crazy in love with her, more than he had ever been with her. But she reminded herself that Ella was her ticket to winning Jack back.

Jumping off the couch, she lay Ella in her bassinet and jumped into the shower. Until Jack decided to be a husband in every sense of the word, she had to find her amusement elsewhere. And amusement came in the form of an ex-boyfriend who was just as selfish and indifferent to the consequences her actions had on others as she was. And he had taught her plenty about sex. It was just a pity that he was neither trustworthy or particularly ambitious, happy to coast along on the favours of his many lovers. Deanna shrugged to herself. She liked being with him, and he didn't give a crap that she was married, or that she had a baby. And Jack deserved to be played around on, given he firmly locked his door each night.

She dressed in a severe-looking tailored skirt-suit over a skimpy black-and-red lace bra and matching g-string. Peter loved it when she dressed all touch-me-not, only to rip her clothes off to find something truly slutty. She fed Ella a small bottle in which she'd crushed up a Diazepam pill and left the girl in her crib in the family room. She had discovered it knocked the baby out for hours, and she would be back long before Jack was, ready to play the reluctant mother to his doting father.

Peter was expecting her. She sashayed in as if she owned the place, glad she didn't. It was a run-down dump – but it wasn't like they needed five-star accommodation for what they had planned. "Hi, lover," she said in a sultry voice. "You miss me?" She flopped down on the couch and spread her legs, hitching them up as she did so her skirt rode up to reveal her g-string. As unselfconsciously as if she were inspecting her nails for dirt, touched herself intimately, watching him until it became obvious that he had indeed missed her.

He sauntered over to her, showing off his erection. "You bet I did," he said. "Let me show you how much." He unzipped his pants with one hand and grabbed the back of her head with the other, pulling it down. Deanna took him in, wishing he could be more like Jack and actually enjoy returning the favour. His gentleness had driven her batty sometimes, but there was no denying he was an insanely generous lover. She sighed and began giving him a blow-job. When Jack fell in love with her again, she was going to make him go down on her nonstop for a _week_.

* * *

"Maybe she thinks she made a hasty suggestion," Vincent suggested.

Jack choked back laughter at that. Deanna, made a hasty decision? She had known fully well what she was getting herself into. She had coldly used him to get pregnant, then ignored all his attempts to reason with her. She had known exactly what she had wanted and gone about getting it coldly. "You've _got_ to be kidding me," Jack said. "She planned it for God knows how long."

"I know, but that was a year ago. A year ago she wasn't pregnant, she had no idea how hard it would be and she lived in a fantasy where you were madly in love and living happily ever after. Now she's tired and alone and married to someone who can't stand her. It's not what she thought she was going to get. Maybe she realises now it's not what she wanted. Maybe she's post-natally depressed. This is Deanna, I can't imagine being at home with nothing for companionship but a baby that needs constant supervising. She wouldn't be the first woman who had her heart set on having a baby then realised it wasn't all it cracked up to be... and she didn't even have a baby because she wanted it, she had a baby because she wanted _you_. Maybe it's finally hit her that it's not going to happen."

Jack pondered Vincent's words. There was a certain logic to it. She was unhappy, she was lonely, she was losing weight way too fast. "What do I do?" he asked.

"Look, Jack, I'm just guessing here but maybe she realises she made a mistake and wants out, she's just not ready to lose face. Talk to her. Offer her whatever you can afford to lose. I doubt she wants to be a mother any more than she wants to be married to someone who hates her. Maybe she'll take a cash settlement for her freedom. You've got nothing to lose by trying."

Jack went away from the conversation thinking maybe Vincent had a point. He had known Deanna would eventually understand how miserable they would be together. Maybe now she realised being married to him wasn't all it was cracked up to be, she would be happy for an out – especially if it meant her freedom and a hefty cash settlement.

* * *

"Report of a screaming child at twenty-two High Street, Bondi," came the voice over Cate's ambulance radio. "Neighbour called it in, said the child has been screaming for over an hour and both her parents are out."

Gabrielle's blood went cold when she heard that description. Twenty-two High Street was Jack's address, and she knew for a fact that Jack had a long day of surgeries today. But... wasn't Deanna supposed to be looking after Ella? Wasn't that the agreement she and Jack had, that he paid her an allowance to be a stay-at-home mum? Had she just walked out on her daughter?

"Roger that," Cate said, repeating the address; she wasn't aware that it was Jack's. Gabrielle's mind started to tick over. If Deanna had left Ella unattended and the little girl had started screaming from neglect – Cate and Heath would have to call DOCS if they got there and found that to be the situation, and once DOCS was involved, there was no uninvolving them. And a three-month-old left home alone did not look good, no matter who was to blame. They'd haul Jack over hot coals over this or worse, take her away. Gabrielle's heart burned for him at this thought. They couldn't take Ella away from him! Not when it was all Deanna's fault – and it _had_ to be all Deanna's fault, no way would Jack be selfish and irresponsible like that. He'd never get over it.

She thought about calling Rebecca – she knew the younger woman's phone number was in the ED's filofax – to see if she could beat Cate and Heath there, then she remembered she still had Jack's keys from the time she had gone over for dinner. She'd meant to return them but she hadn't had the heart to wake him, and the keys had been sitting in her bag for over three months. She'd go there herself. She looked around her. There was no-one to overhear the conversation. "Cate," she said, "That's Jack's address. I need you to take the longest route you can think of," Gabrielle urged her former subordinate.

Cate looked at Gabrielle suspiciously. The woman couldn't be serious, could she? She was actually planning on going over there and what, intercepting Ella before they arrived? If the little girl really _was_ home alone, then they'd have no choice but to report the situation to DOCS. Cate, like everyone who worked with Jack, felt deeply sorry for the situation Jack had found himself in, but she wasn't going to do something illegal to cover up his – or rather, Deanna's – irresponsible actions. "No!" she said, indignant that her former boss thought she would break the rules like that. "I'm not risking my job because he can't arrange for his daughter to be taken care of. You wouldn't be asking me to do this if it was anyone else."

"I wouldn't ask it for anyone else because I don't know anyone else's situation like I know Jack's," Gabrielle pointed out, knowing she sounded like a protective girlfriend, but she didn't care. She cared about Jack, and she couldn't let DOCS get wind of the situation if she could do something about it. "And you know it, too. You know if he had any idea Deanna would do this – come on, Cate, you know what kind of guy he is. And you owe him." Remember how he looked out for you last year?"

Cate cringed. She didn't particularly want to remember it, and she resented Gabrielle bringing it up. When she had been going off the rails last year, Jack had often driven her home and seen her to bed when she was in danger of giving herself alcohol poisoning or ending up with some sleaze who'd use her worse than Vincent or Scott ever had. Even when she'd thrown himself at him in a drunken, drug-fuelled haze, he'd overlooked it and continued looking out for her. She hadn't asked for it and she certainly hadn't deserved it, but it was the kind of guy Jack was, he couldn't let a friend put themselves in danger if he could stop it – especially if she was a weaker, attractive female and an easy target for rapists. She could have ended up in a ditch somewhere, another statistic, if it hadn't been for Jack's constant intervention. It wasn't fair for Gabrielle to ask her to risk her job, but she _did_ owe Jack, and besides, Gabrielle was prepared to risk her own job.

"Fine," Cate agreed reluctantly. "But if you don't get there in time, that's not my fault."

Gabrielle wasn't about to waste a second. "Bart, tell Frank I've taken the rest of the day off," she directed the younger doctor. She rushed into the tea room, grabbed her bag out of her locker and was racing out the door before a flabbergasted Bart had the time to process what was happening.

Gabrielle drove the way she drove on the farm – completely oblivious to the road rules but driving as carefully as she could through the busy Sydney streets. She prayed she wouldn't get stopped by the cops. A speeding ticket she could handle, but getting stopped by the cops would waste precious minutes and she doubted _I need to stop the ambos and DOCS from taking my mate's daughter from him 'cos his wife left her home alone_ was a valid reason.

She could hear Ella wailing as she drove into the carport. She couldn't believe she was doing this. No way would the neighbours believe she had been here all along, but maybe Jack could calm them down later. She hadn't thought the plan through beyond beating Cate and Heath to the house. She just barely had time to change into casual clothes and calm Ella down by changing her and giving her a bottle when there was a knock on the door.

Heath immediately looked suspicious when he saw Gabrielle there. It was far too co-incidental that they get called out to Jack's house because his baby daughter had been left by herself, only to arrive there and have Gabrielle taking care of the child, now calm. Nor was it a co-incidence that Cate, who had been driving, had insisted on taking a 'short cut' which had turned out to be exactly the opposite. "Sorry," Gabrielle launched into her quickly-conceived story. "I was having a bath downstairs and I guess the baby radio broke or something 'cos I didn't hear her. God, I feel awful. Jack's going to be so angry with me, you know how devoted he is to her."

She prattled on convincingly enough that Heath decided to let it go. He _knew_ Ella had been left home alone, but if he tried to take it up, he also knew Gabrielle would lie for Jack. And besides, Heath knew enough about Jack and Deanna's situation from Cate that Deanna was to blame from Ella being left by herself. But as soon as he and Cate were back in the ambulance, he glared at her. "I know what you did," he said. Cate did her best innocent look. "I could report you for that."

"Oh, come on, Heath," Cate said. "You know it wasn't Jack's fault. What, you want to see him lose his daughter?"

"Of course not! But if he can't arrange reliable care for her, then he has to accept the consequences." He sighed. It was done now, and he knew Cate felt she owed Jack a lot. "You pull another stunt like that again and I _will_ report you." He snatched the keys out of her hand. "And I'm driving back."

Relieved, Cate accepted the token punishment with good grace. If Gabrielle could actually pull this off, then Jack wouldn't lose his daughter and she figured she had repaid her debt to him. And boy, was he going to hear it from her the same way she had heard it from him all those mornings after...

... "That was a close call, wasn't it, sweetheart?" Gabrielle asked after Heath and Cate had left. Heath _seemed_ to be convinced, or maybe it was just that he was sympathetic enough to Jack to accept her story. There was still work to be done, of course; neighbours had to be placated, and Jack had to be far more careful when leaving Ella when he was working. If the hospital crèche was open twenty-four hours, it would be a godsend, but it was only open business hours, which Gabrielle thought was stupid, because the doctors and nurses had to work round-the-clock. What Jack needed, if Deanna was too selfish and irresponsible to provide Ella with the supervision she needed, was a live-in nanny. Which gave Gabrielle an idea.

She left a message on Jack's mobile, explaining what had happened and that he needed to get home _right now_. An hour later, she heard his key in the lock. "Gabs?" he called, and she could hear the frantic worry in his voice. He rushed into the downstairs entertaining room where Gabrielle was watching a DVD with a sleeping Ella in her bassinet. "Is she OK?" he said, picking her up and cradling her in his arms, hugging her tight enough to wake her up. "Oh, God, what happened?"

"I told you what happened, Jack," Gabrielle said testily. "You're _wife_ left your daughter home by herself for God knows how many hours – maybe she left the second after you did. And there's more. I searched her room and I found a prescription for Diazepam. It's in _your_ name, Jack, and it would explain why she slept for so long. Who the hell knows how many she's had?"

Jack took the bottle from Gabrielle's hand, although he already knew it was his. He had thrown it out shortly after Ella had been born; he hadn't wanted to be dead to the world should she need him in the middle of the night. She must have come across the thrown-out bottle by accident – or maybe she'd gone hunting for it, he wouldn't put it past her – and decided to start doping her own child – _his daughter – _to keep her quiet while she went out and did her own thing. He explained this to Gabrielle, shaking with both rage and terror for what could have happened. Ella could easily have overdosed, the ambos could have gotten here before Gabrielle had... he couldn't believe Deanna could be so selfish, so irresponsible. He had always known she thought only of herself, but to be so indifferent to the welfare of a child – a child that was meant to be her own.

All her talk about wanting to bond with Ella and feeling like her daughter didn't love her had been rubbish, and to achieve what? To make him feel sorry for her? Was she really that heartless that she'd use a baby as a pawn? Suddenly, her manipulations against him paled in comparison. "I can't believe she'd do this," he said over and over. He gripped Ella until she started crying again, and even then was reluctant to ease his grip, as if DOCS might materialise any second and he could only keep her with him with an iron grip.

"Jack, give me your keys," Gabrielle commanded urgently, taking control of the situation as best she could. It was obvious Jack wasn't capable of any thought beyond his daughter.

"What?" he asked, barely hearing her.

"You want to catch Deanna before she's had a change to think of a story, don't you?" she asked. Jack nodded. "Then give me your keys. She won't recognise my car, I can just park it a few houses down. But she'll recognise yours as soon as she hits the street so give me your keys and I'll park it a few blocks away." Dumbly, Jack handed over his keys and gave his complete attention back to his daughter.

Half an hour later, Gabrielle returned. She'd parked his car at the local shopping centre and walked back. By the time she got back, Jack was somewhat calmer and Ella had returned to sleep. "She's fine," Jack said softly, not taking his eyes off her. "Blood pressure, heart rate, breathing, all fine." It didn't surprise Gabrielle in the slightest that Jack had all the equipment needed for a full physical on a newborn. "But if she doesn't give me a divorce, I'll wring her neck. I don't care how I have to get rid of her," he added in a tone that made Gabrielle shiver, because in that moment, he looked quite capable of murder.

"That doesn't solve your problem," she said, deciding to ignore that last comment. "You need to either give up working or hire someone you trust." She had been thinking on the walk home, and she thought she had a solution. "I know someone who's really good. I mean, she's like a baby whisperer. There's no-one back home who doesn't trust her with their kids and she's currently studying child care at TAFE here in Sydney."

Jack looked at her suspiciously. She sounded perfect, but there had to be a catch. He had already started looking at nannies, and he had found that finding a good one – the perfect one – was even harder than finding a decent plumber. Worse, because you were more inclined to trust someone with your house than you were your child. "What's the catch?" he asked. "Does she have a police record?"

"Not exactly," Gabrielle said, because she knew he wasn't going to like what the catch was. "She, um, isn't old enough to have a police record. She's... seventeen."

"Gabrielle!" Jack said indignantly. "You think I'm going to trust my daughter to a seventeen-year-old? Hell, given the state of my marriage, do you know what a joke I'd be if it became known I have a teenager looking after my daughter?"

Gabrielle wasn't about to be deterred. If Frank Campion hadn't gotten the better of her, then Jack Quade certainly wasn't going to. "There's no-one in Widgee who wouldn't trust her with their kids – she can get dozens of references, which I reckon is better than anyone in Sydney could do. You're not going to lose anything by talking to her," she said.

"And if she's so great, how come someone else hasn't snapped her up already?" Jack countered, knowing the answer already.

"'Cos of her age," Gabrielle admitted. No-one wanted an unknown teenager looking after their kids, even if she _was_ practically a baby whisperer. "But Jack, you trust my judgement, don't you?" she pushed, and Jack nodded reluctantly, knowing she was doing her famous Gabrielle Jaeger thing where she got around even the most stubborn of refusals. "You can at least talk to her before you make up your mind. Besides," she added, pulling out her trump card. "You owe me. I jeopardised my career to be here."

Jack grunted noncommittally, and Gabrielle knew to let it go for the time being. But she'd wear him down. She bet he'd start thinking about it after he remembered just how hard it was to find a good nanny.

She stayed with him until Deanna got home, and when the older woman walked in, her outfit was crinkled, her hair dishevelled and she reeked of sex. Scowling, Jack remembered that outfit. He wondered if she was wearing the same slutty lingerie underneath; he had loved the way she could appear so prim-and-proper but act like a complete tigress in bed – only for him, he had thought. For a moment, he hated her for that particular manipulation, then he remembered that it was nothing compared to what she had done today. She had drugged their daughter and gone out to get laid. And how many times had she done it? He just bet this wasn't the first.

Deanna stopped dead in her tracks when she saw Jack with Gabrielle. She knew he had a long day of surgeries and wouldn't be back until late at night - or so he had said. Had he set her up? Her second thought was that her plan was completely ruined, unless she could come up with something. Her mind was blank as she searched for an explanation as to why she was up and about, happy as a lark with Ella stashed at home.

Jack lunged towards her and slapped her across the face with enough force to make her stagger backwards and fall on her ass. "Jack, no!" Gabrielle screamed as she saw Jack go to hit her again. His words came back to her. _If she doesn't give me a divorce, I'll wring her neck. I don't care how I have to get rid of her_. She rushed to Jack's side and pulled on his arms. "Stop it," she begged. "This isn't going to achieve anything."

"You bitch!" Jack screamed at his wife, and for the first time in the year that she had known him, Gabrielle was truly frightened of him. She knew Jack hated Deanna, but hadn't known he was capable of such anger, such violence. "You selfish, slutty _bitch_!" Gabrielle had to wrap her arms around his waist and pull him away as hard as she could – only someone who had handled horses much heavier and more temperamental than Jack could have done it – so Jack wouldn't kick a downed Deanna in the ribs.

Deanna scrambled to her feet, momentarily too grateful towards Gabrielle to be resentful towards her. Just for being here – and for having something to do with Jack being here, she was sure. She touched her cheek gingerly. Jack certainly knew how to throw a punch. "You _hit_ me!" she said indignantly, as if his anger was entirely unprovoked.

"How could you leave her by herself?" he yelled at her, oblivious to Gabrielle's attempts to calm him down, as he would remain so until Deanna had left. "How could you _drug_ her? That's an _adult_ prescription, Deanna, not a child's." Deanna remained like a deer in headlights until Jack spat the words she wouldn't stand for. "I want a divorce. I don't want you anywhere near Ella, ever again."

"Like hell," she snarled, cursing herself for being so reckless. How was she to know what would happen – what exactly happened, anyway? She had left Ella asleep, confident that Jack would be in surgery long after she got home, but here he was, with that nosy little bitch who had the hots for him. Bitterness filled her. She had never forgotten that night she'd tracked Jack to Cougars to tell him about her pregnancy, only to find him with _her_, and to add insult to injury, that _she_ had _her_ keys. That job Gabrielle was enjoying so much should be _hers_. And now here she was, in _her_ home, with _her_ husband. That she had contrived to get this far made Deanna want to scratch her eyes out, but even in her bitterness, she consoled herself with the fact that Jack had too much honour to let things go too far.

She stared into Jack's eyes, and shivered at the hate in them. Well, he'd get over it. He'd have to, if he wanted Ella in his life. Let him move forward with his precious divorce, let him see how popular workaholic surgeons were in family court. He'd come to his senses. "I'm not staying here with you ready to kill me," she said haughtily, as if Jack's anger were simply that of a spoilt child. "I'm going out until you calm down." And before Jack could restrain her – or, rather, before he could shrug off Gabrielle's iron grip to go after her – she was out the door, her heart pumping in fear – and her heart churning bitterly.

Once Deanna was out of site, Jack sank back into the couch. It occurred to him that it was a wonder Ella hadn't woken up, given how he'd screamed at Deanna. "This is never going to be over," Jack said flatly. For reasons no sane mind could understand, Deanna was not going to let him go. She'd rather be miserable together then happy – and moderately well-off in her own right – apart.

That she would rather be miserable with him than see him happy with someone else didn't occur to him. "Tell me about this girl," he said to Gabrielle, thinking that, if Deanna wasn't going to let him go, them he needed to provide Ella with the care she needed.

Deanna came back several hours later, thoroughly drunk. She had holed up in a bar, thinking, scheming, hating. It occurred to her that the only way for Gabrielle to be able to intercept Ella before the ambos came was if she'd been tipped off by an ambo... and the only ambo Deanna knew of her both hated her and cared about Jack in equal parts was Cate McMasters. God, she had hated that woman from day one. Too blond, too perky, too close to Jack. In Deanna's mind, any attractive woman Jack spent any amount of time with was too close to him. Then she realised that Cate and Gabrielle must have made some really obvious mistakes to be able to pull of a stunt like that. She bet Cate's partner – Heath, he was cute, but only an ambo, barely above a nurse in the medical pecking order – had been furious about it. And Gabrielle wouldn't exactly be able to hide the fact that she had been working in the ward when the call had come in. A little prompting at Heath and who knew what the young ambo might push for.

Jack was waiting up for her when she got home, although his anger was spent. "Don't try," she said, sweet as poison when he opened his mouth. "Don't think about asking for a divorce. I can't get anything from you, I know that. But I can destroy you. I can take Ella from you. How many courts do you think will give custody to a workaholic surgeon over a stay-at-home mum?"

"You hypocritical little bitch," Jack spat, his temper rising again. "You drugged her – with _my_ prescription, I might add, which you _stole_ – and left her alone. You could have _killed_ her. You could have gotten DOCS involved."

"Well, I didn't," she said airily, as if it was a minor mistake and not a major act of selfishness. "And if I had, you would have been just as much to blame as me. You want to report me, go ahead. See how long those careers of your precious blond _whores_ hold up once the papers get hold of what they did."

Jack wasn't surprised that Deanna had worked out Cate and Gabrielle's part in the matter. (And while he was grateful, he didn't understand what had possessed either woman to jeopardise their careers like that.) Neither was he surprised that Deanna would use that to get to him yet again. He had no doubt that she would not only report them to their respective bosses, but to every authority and newspaper that would talk to her. She would ruin them, partly to hurt him and partly because she hated them for no better reason than they were friends of his. He started to tell her that she was a real bitch, then decided to hold his tongue. No point in repeating himself. "We had an agreement, I pay you an allowance to take care of Ella," he said, surprised at how calm he sounded when inwardly he still felt like wringing her neck. "You well and truly broke that agreement so here's the deal; I am looking for a nanny and you can do whatever the hell you want for an income."

"That's not fair! Thanks to your mates at AUMEL, half the cities in this hospitals won't hire me."

Jack shrugged. It wasn't even entirely to his connections; it was because Deanna had a long and nasty habit of working in a place for a few months before eventually showing her colours. All Saints for one wouldn't hire her for that reason. "That's not my problem," he said. "Go to Kings Cross for all I care."

She lunged for him and went to slap him, but he caught her easily. "And don't ever touch me again," he added in a quiet, deadly voice. "Don't hit me, don't come into my room expecting me to act like a real husband. And don't touch Ella, either. I'll make arrangements so someone's with her all the time but you are _never_ to lay one selfish, irresponsible finger on her again, do you understand?"

She stared into his eyes, and saw the silver lining. She would never need have anything to do with that brat again. It had cost her, but it was something she had gotten out of it. Besides, she knew she could get another decent job – maybe not as a nurse, but doing _something_. Too many people owed her too many favours for her not to land on her feet. And besides, Jack made her account for every cent of the paltry allowance he paid her. It would be good to have her own money again that she could do what she pleased with. "Fine," she snapped, pulling free of his hold. "I'm going to bed."

"I hope you trip and break your neck," she heard Jack mutter darkly to her retreating back. She ignored him.

* * *

Gabrielle knew she was in for it the second Zoe managed to get her alone, just as she had known Frank would send Zoe to do her dirty work. "You could be struck off for yesterday's stunt," she said bluntly to her. "So could Cate."

"What stunt?" Gabrielle asked innocently.

"Cut the crap," Zoe said sharply. "You walked out of here the second you found out Ella had been left alone. Heath's convinced Cate had something to do with it, insisting on a shortcut that turned out to be twice as long. You know if he wanted to, he could push the issue, and how long do you think it would be before the hospital and the service work out the two of you conspired to make it look like everything was OK? For heaven's sake, Gabrielle, she was left alone."

_And doped up with a stolen Diazepam prescription_, Gabrielle added silently. Not that she was about to add _that_; Zoe might report Deanna herself. In fact, if Gabrielle didn't care so much about Jack, _she_ might have reported Deanna herself, and to hell with the consequences to Jack. No child should be living under the same roof as someone as callous and irresponsible and selfish as Deanna Richardson. But Gabrielle couldn't do that to Jack; she had proven that yesterday. "It's done now," Gabrielle said. "It's can't be undone."

"You're remarkably calm about this," Zoe said suspiciously. In fact, she looked like if she could take it back, she would do it all over again. "You know that, no matter how much a farce his marriage is, he _is_ still married_,_" she felt the need to remind her.

"And what's that supposed to mean?"

"Don't get too close to him, Gabrielle. He isn't free to be with anyone else... no matter how much we might regret that for him."

Gabrielle gritted her teeth. What was it with people thinking that just because she cared if Jack lost his daughter, she was in love with him? "Understood," she said. "Is that all?"

"That's all?" Zoe said.

Jack groaned inwardly when he opened the door to meet Caitlen Warren. Given five years, the girl had the beauty to be the next Elle McPherson. In fact, Jack had a vague recollection that McPherson had started in her late teens, too. Straight dark brown hair at reached most of the way down her back, slim, tall figure, hazel eyes with flecks of gold in them, as ambiguous as his own. If word got out that he had hired a gorgeous, underage girl for his nanny –

He was tempted to shut the door in her face but Caitlen stepped forward and held out her hand. "Hi, I'm Caitlen," she said, and once Jack took her in, he was at least pleased to note that Caitlen was wearing jeans and a top that revealed nothing. She moved past Jack to Ella in her bassinet. "This must be Ella," she said, having been told enough from Gabrielle. "Do you mind?" she asked Jack, and he nodded. She picked her up with expert care that he was surprised to find in a seventeen-year-old. She was crying, and Caitlen noted, "She's hungry."

"How do you know?" Jack was still learning to know which cries meant she was hungry, needed to be changed, or tired.

"I just know," Caitlen said, and Jack, despite himself, bought into Gabrielle's claim that she was a baby whisperer. "Where do you keep your formula?"

"Fridge," Jack said, gesturing to the refrigerator in the kitchen. Caitlen went to it, pulled out a bottle, inspected it, and put it on the front counter in a sweep of her hand that reeked of distain.

"You've made it wrong," she told him. "It's too watery." She held it up to demonstrate, and Jack, who had only started making baby formula a few days ago, couldn't see what she was talking about. And he resented the implication that she knew more about raising his daughter than he did.

"It looks fine too me," he said shortly.

"It's not," she said, pleasantly but firmly. "I don't mean to undermine you, but I've given formula to, like, twenty babies, I know what it's meant to be. Look, come here and I'll show you." And she took him through the steps of how to make good formula before she fed Ella. The baby girl took to the bottle of a girl-woman who cared much more and knew much more about caring for children than Deanna ever would. "She's beautiful," Caitlen remarked. "She has the most beautiful eyes. Chameleon eyes."

She had hit the right mark with Jack without realising it. "My sister likes to think she got it from me – I mean, our mum. We're all pretty fair, and apparently that's common with fair people... chameleon eyes." His own eyes could be bright green when he was angry, slate grey when he was thinking, blue-grey when he was emotional. Now that he had realised Caitlen was very capable of looking after a child, he watched her closely. "You know kids," he commented.

"Yeah," she said, holding Ella as if she were a seasoned mother of several children instead of a teenager with none. "I'm the oldest of six so I always had younger kids to take care of... it was a talent, I suppose. I'm a good baby-sitter. And I want to be a nanny," she added boldly. "But no-one will hire me. Because of my age." No sense in hiding that; she knew Gabrielle had had to put in the hard word for her to get so much as an interview.

Jack sighed. "The thing is, Caitlen – did Gabrielle tell you about the state of my marriage?"

"She said you had a mutual agreement."

Jack couldn't help but find himself laughing at Caitlen's attempt at diplomacy funny. "What did she really say?" Jack asked.

"She said she was a grade-A cunt and she should know, she had met enough in her life."

Jack found himself howling with laughter at Gabrielle's spot-on assessment. Caitlen watched him with a mixture of amusement and confusion, and then calmed down. "And you still came?" he asked.

"I need a job, Jack," Caitlen admitted. "No-one will hire me because of my age. And I'll admit, being a nanny to a surgical registrar is a fastrack to my career. And I like you. You seem to be devoted to Ella... for all you don't know much about children beyond their technical health." She let Ella suck on her little finger contentedly as if to prove she knew more about what children needed emotionally, at seventeen, than Jack knew of his own daughter at twenty-seven.

Everything in Jack's body was screaming to hire this girl. And he could get her cheap, too. "Do you have a licence?" he asked. "And a car?"

"And a police clearance," she added. "I have an '03 Hyundai Excel, my dad bought it for me so I would have a small city car to drive around." Impulsively, she grabbed his hands, then backed off when she realised he needed space."I'm a good nanny, Jack," she said. "Despite me age, I'm a good nanny."

He decided to give her a three-month trial.

* * *

"The prodigal dad finally makes his appearance," Dan said smugly when Jack arrived for post-work Cougars drinks, looking for the gang. Dan checked his watch. "Doesn't the crèche close at 5?" he asked. It was half past six.

"Cait needs thirty child-caring hours this week, something about a prac," Jack said. "She just about banished me from my own home. What's more, she's doing the extra hours for free, he added with an impish smile."

"Jack, you cant, taking advantage of a teenager like that," Zoe quipped. The truth was, she, like everyone, had seen how happy having Caitlen as his nanny had made him. Caitlen was every bit the baby whisperer that Gabrielle had promised her to be. She understood Ella's needs and wants, but more than that, she taught him how to know his daughter.

Jack poked his tongue out at her. The last two months, Caitlen had proved to be more than her worth. She truly was a baby whisperer with Ella, and her age was the only thing that stopped people poaching her. He was so grateful to her that he had overlooked his phone bills. Gabriele had confirmed the bulk of the calls had gone to her family home. Caitlen and Gabrielle's younger brother Ben had been something of an item for the better part of five years, so they called each other frequently. Jack didn't care. He had a nanny who had an instinct about what do to with Ella, let people talk. What was more, despite her youth, she was no pushover, and didn't let Deanna walk all over her. She was a complete Godsend in Jack's opinion. "Besides, I'm sure she's getting her money's worth with the phone bills she's running up," Jack tacked on. "I hate to know what it's going to cost me." The girl seemed to be constantly on the phone to Ben Jaeger.

"You just can't stand the thought of two people being so disgustingly happy with each other," Gabrielle teased.. "I can't imagine you as an in-love teenager."

"Me? I was the original love struck teenager," Jack quipped with a smirk. The truth was, he _was_ kind of jealous of Caitlen and Ben's closeness. The way she always perked up after talking to him made him all the more aware of the emptiness of his marriage.

"What's Deanna got to say about her?" Erica asked. It was the question on everyone's lips; how the woman had taken to having a gorgeous teenager under her roof, especially given that everyone knew what a sham their marriage was. There wasn't a woman around who would be comfortable with the situation even if their marriage was a happy one, let alone when it was as farcical as Jack and Deanna's.

"She's smart enough to know if Caitlen quits, she has to look after Ella herself." Besides, she wasn't at home much. She had gotten a job as a personal assistant to some executive type. Jack didn't know the details – although he wouldn't put it past her to have blackmailed her way to the job – only that it meant she was always accompanying him on business trips. Jack suspected they were sleeping together. He didn't care; it kept her out of his hair, and made for a much more harmonious house. He was as happy with the situation as he could be, although it did get lonely sometimes. A lot of the time.

The little group broke up an hour later. "How are you getting home?" Gabrielle asked him. He'd definitely had too much to drink to drive home.

"Cait said she'd pick me up."

Gabrielle swatted his arm playfully. He had a great deal going with Caitlen. She was eternally grateful to him for hiring her, and had a slight case of hero worship as well. She'd do just about anything he asked of her, including pick him up from Cougars because he'd had too much to drink. "Stop taking advantage of her," she said. "I'll give you a lift home." Besides, it would be nice to share a few minutes alone with him; the last time they had done so had been when she'd intercepted Ella for him and he hadn't exactly been in a great state of mind then.

They talked the whole way home, and sat in the car for ten minutes after she pulled into the driveway. Jack was reluctant to go inside. It had been a long time since he and Gabrielle had just hung out, and he realised he missed her companionship. He loved Ella with every fibre of his being, but sometimes you needed more than just quality time with a baby or shop talk with colleagues. "We should go for a drink sometime," he said as he left. "It would be nice to have slightly more scintillating conversation then gurgles."

"I'd like that," Gabrielle said shyly, surprised at how much she really did like the idea. Well, why wouldn't she? Jack was a good friend, and there weren't a lot of guys like him around – sweet, intelligent, funny. If he wasn't married... but he was, and that was the end of it. It was just such a shame for him to be stuck in this situation, although he seemed to think Ella was worth it. _Not to mention, a terrific dad_, she thought. It wasn't fair. "I'll see you tomorrow," she said. She couldn't help but notice had a great ass as he headed for the front door.

Jack was disappointed to see Deanna was home. He tensed up immediately because more than just being here, she had this look on her face that meant she was up to something. He should have known things were running too smoothly to be true. "I spoke to my mum today," Deanna said, and Jack cringed, because that was no doubt a length phone call to Perth that he could add to the bill. He was sure she called and left the phone on for hours just to spite him. "I was thinking of going to see them. It's about time they met Ella."

"You're not taking my daughter out of the state, Deanna," Jack said through gritted teeth. Besides, he was pretty sure she was playing him for something else. That she didn't get along with her parents was one of the few things she had been honest about.

"_My_ daughter," Deanna corrected. "And I can do whatever I want."

Jack rubbed his temple. Why Deanna wanted to take Ella to see her parents was beyond him. She didn't get along with her parents and had barely had anything to do with Ella since Caitlen had arrived. Jack wondered if _that_ was it, that Deanna was looking to punish him for bring the beautiful young woman into their – _his_ – home. "Don't cross me over this one," he warned her. "I'm not in the mood."

"Oh, you think I _enjoy_ being shut out of your life? You spend more time with Caitlen then you do me," she snapped.

"If you cared about Ella the same way she does, I'd spend more time with you," he napped back. "You're not taking her and that's final."

"I hate you!" she yelled at him with a vehemence that startled him. You never let me do anything. You won't let me be her mother, and you don't treat me like a wife. Kylie couldn't believe I didn't know about the hospital ball. Do you know how embarrassing it is to find out about it from _her_. I bet she's told everyone that _Doctor Quade_ has no intention of taking his _wife_ to the biggest function of the year."

_So that's what this is about_, Jack thought. She was trying to get him to take her, and she was threatening to take Ella to Perth if she didn't get her way. He wondered if she truly believed people were talking about her because of it, if anyone bought the fiction that he cared about her, let alone loved her. Kylie Palmer was one of Deanna's cronies, and almost as detestable as Deanna herself. "Forget it," he said briskly. "I've already invited Rebecca."

"Then uninvite her," Deanna countered. "Really, Jack, do you know how bad it looks that you'd rather take your _sister_ to the hospital ball than your _wife_? Kylie says you two are so close, it's unnatural," she added haughtily.

He knew Rebecca would lose it if he uninvited her to take Deanna instead, and he said so. Deanna shrugged. It would be a double-score to go in Rebecca's place. She wanted to go to the ball with Jack because she had envisioned a future for them where they did such things, and she wanted to put Rebecca in her place. Besides, she wanted to keep an eye on him. Everyone knew how out-of-control those things could get and she had no intention of having some slutty blond getting her claws into him. No doubt Rebecca would be encouraging him to get up to no good. She didn't see anything wrong with _her_ sleeping around. Jack only had himself to blame for not being a real husband to her, and once he decided to return to the marriage bed, she would give up other men. It wasn't like they could compare to him, anyway. "If you take me to the ball, I won't go to Perth," she bargained.

Jack could feel a headache coming on. He couldn't believe her nerve. He wondered if he should just call her bluff, because he had no doubt Deanna was threatening to take Ella just to use it as a bargaining chip and she had no interest in seeing her parents, but decided that she was actually that spiteful. She would endure weeks with her parents just to teach him a lesson. "Fine," he said finally. "But don't expect me to be happy about it." He hoped everyone snubbed her and she had a lousy time, the same lousy time he was sure to have with her at his side.

"I'll need a new dress," she pushed, and Jack was convinced she lay awake at night, dreaming up ways to make him fund the lifestyle she thought she was entitled to as a surgeon's wife.

* * *

"So I'm touched that Ben misses me so much – it turns out he and dad can't cook for crap and all he misses are decent meals," Gabrielle said with a laugh.

"I bet you were a really bossy sister," Jack quipped.

Gabrielle shrugged. "Wasn't my fault Ben was so easy to – uh – _influence_," she said. "I swear, sometimes I feel more like his mum then his sister."

"The joys of younger siblings, you can see how your kids are going to end up," Jack said ruefully. "I live in terror that a teenage Ella will be an obnoxious flirt who fancies herself to be an absolute angel... and goes around insulting my colleagues." There was a roar of laughter at that, except from Bart, who had never quite gotten over the way Rebecca had spoken to him a year ago.

"Oh, I wouldn't say that's always a _bad_ quality," Vincent said with a smirk. "I remember a certain person's birthday party."

There was more laughter at that, and even though those who hadn't been there – namely, Bart and Gabrielle – weren't in the loop, it was easy to work out it had something to do with Deanna. The woman looked angry that whatever it was had been brought up, and Gabrielle flashed Jack a knowing smile. Jack smiled back at her.

The night hadn't gone too badly. Deanna seemed too pleased with herself over usurping Rebecca to cause any trouble, so apart from the general ill-feeling everyone felt towards her, there had been no drama. She had racked up a considerable bill on a new dress, accessories, hair and makeup, and looked every inch the successful surgeon's wife – the position she had schemed and betrayed so hard to get. Momentarily at least, she seemed content. But Vincent's comment made her scowl darkly. Naturally, Gabrielle's interest was piqued. She knew Deanna and Rebecca couldn't stand each other, and what Gabrielle had seen of Rebecca, she wasn't the type of person who stood for being walked all over – or having her brother walked all over. Gabrielle bet the two women had had more than their fair share of spats.

"She makes these lethal cocktails," Jack explained a few minutes later when Deanna excused herself to get a drink. "Go down like silk but there's like four standard drinks to them. Bec just plied her with false sweetness and cocktails until she was thoroughly drunk. By sheer good timing, my ex called and Bec took the opportunity to wax lyrical about how much she'd meant to me until she had Deanna in tears. And Dan got the whole thing on tape. I'm surprised he hasn't uploaded it onto YouTube yet," Jack added with a grin.

"I never thought of that," Dan admitted, thinking that it was, in fact, an excellent idea. He knew how Deanna had wrangled her seat at the ball. It was just one more black mark against her. And she was taking away from everyone else's good time just by being here, reminding everyone of the havoc she had wreaked.

Well, at least Jack was doing his best to ignore her. And he and Gabrielle were looking pretty pally, something Dan knew would drive Deanna mental. In fact, he and Gabrielle seemed to be seeing a lot of each other lately. If Dan didn't know how much integrity Jack had, he would think there was something going on beyond friendship.

From the bar, Deanna watched Jack and Gabrielle get into an animated conversation. Despite the fact she'd gotten what she had wanted, she felt poisoned with bitterness. She wanted to scratch the younger woman's eyes out when Jack touched her arm lightly. Jack hadn't been that affectionate with her since just after Ella had been born. She remembered bitterly the way he used to be so gentle with her, the way he'd kiss her forehead, if not passionately, at least affectionately. And she had blown it by leaving Ella by herself. She knew Gabrielle had only done it to suck up to Jack; she wouldn't have jeopardised her career if she wasn't totally hot for him. She glared hatefully at Gabrielle and tossed back her drink. At least now that her bad mothering skills had been exposed, Jack didn't harass her about drinking. She almost missed that. Before he had at least cared, even if it was only because of Ella. Now...

She scowled when Jack jumped up when a new song started up and, grabbing Gabrielle's hand, pulled her towards the dance floor. Laughing, Gabrielle was trying to break free of his hold, but he insisted, and drew her into his arms. It was nothing, of course. There were plenty of men dancing with women other than their wives... but none of whom had such a farcical marriage, or were dancing with women who clearly had the hots for them.

She put down her drink and called for another. She had to admit, Gabrielle looked stunning, especially for the fact her dress didn't cost half of what Deanna's did. And she was tall. In heels she was easily six foot, which seemed the perfect height for Jack. She scowled again, remembering when she'd confronted Jack shortly after the ceremony over his stunt with the trust fund, how he'd held her awkwardly and jeered that she used to fit so perfectly into his body. He wasn't holding Gabrielle particularly intimately, but she still seemed like she fitted in his arms the same way Deanna once had. _Hold me like that again_, she pleaded silently. She watched him smile at her, and she hated Gabrielle for making him smile at her like that.

The bartender handed her another drink. _Poor woman_, he thought. Obviously her husband had lost interest in her – and for a much plainer woman, too. Some men didn't deserve to be married. "Can I get you anything else?" he asked.

Deanna looked at him. _Not bad_, she thought. Young, about twenty, good-looking in a dark way... she was suddenly very aware of how long it had been since she'd gotten a decent lay. And humiliating Jack would serve him right for the way he was humiliating her right now with that – that _woman_. "I'm sure I can think of something," she said provocatively. She handed the empty glass to him and let her fingers brush casually against his wrist in a way she knew men liked.

* * *

"Frank, you really need to talk to her about – whatever it is they're doing," Zoe protested. Because gossip tended to go _down_ the food chain, not up, she hadn't heard much, but she knew Jack and Gabrielle were getting themselves talked about. It wasn't anything substantial, but given everyone in the hospital knew about the state of his and Deanna's marriage, and everyone knew about the stunt Gabrielle and Cate had pulled to stop Ella being put into care, naturally, there was talk about Jack and Gabrielle being more than just friends. Zoe was actually surprised there wasn't talk about Jack and Cate, but she figured that was because Jack and Cate didn't openly drive each other home after postwork drinks.

"Huh?" Frank asked distractedly. He was too busy dwelling on his break-up with Eve Ballyntine to pay much attention to his staff's personal lives.

"Jack. And Gabrielle," Zoe said slowly. She was becoming increasingly frustrated with Frank's disinterest in everything since Eve had left. "They're getting themselves talked about."

"Talked about what?"

Zoe sighed in frustration. Sometimes she thought Frank was deliberately obtuse so she would do his dirty work for him. "There's talk that they're too close, given the state of his marriage." Privately, Zoe thought it would be impressive if Jack hadn't strayed yet. It couldn't be easy, being married like he was, not legally free to commit to anyone but not getting the intimacy you needed.

Frank waved at her impatiently. "Oh, that."

"_Oh, that_," she mimicked. "You already knew about it, and haven't said anything?"

Frank shrugged. "Quade might think with his dick too much, but he's a decent kid. He's not going to get involved with her."

"Oh, so long as nothing will happen, they have carte blanche to be indiscreet," Zoe said sarcastically. "Frank, do you not care that one of your staff is being talked about? If this thing gets any bigger, it will reflect badly on the whole ward." And naturally Mike and his little team of surgeons with interesting interpretations on fidelity would emerge unscathed because that was just what surgeons did, especially male surgeons.

Frank waved at her again. "Fine, fine, I'll talk to them," he grumbled. Bloody Quade, always getting involved with Frank's staff and causing his headaches. Frank was sure Jack lay wake at night plotting against him...

... "This is fun," Jack murmured in her ear. He knew they should get back to their seats, but she felt so good in his arms and it had been months and months since he'd enjoyed this kind of easy affection – since she'd come over to watch _Carnivale_, actually. And she smelled nice.

"Mmm," she agreed. She knew people were looking at them, knew his unhappy marriage made him an all-too-easy target for gossip, but she loved being with him. She'd had a little too much to drink and it made her all the more aware of how well-built he was. She could feel his abs through his shirt, and his strong hand on her bare back felt reassuring.

"We should have another DVD night," he suggested. "You're fun to hang out with."

"You're not exactly unpleasant company yourself," she bantered. She tilted her head so she could meet his eyes, and flashed him a cheeky smile that made him laugh. She frowned when she saw his face completely change as if someone had thrown a light switch, going from happy to dark and angry in a second. Gabrielle spun around and scanned the room for the source of Jack's displeasure. Deanna was coming out from a service door, her hair dishevelled, her dress – the one Jack had spent a small fortune on – wrinkled, giggling. A good looking but young – too young to realise that sort of thing got you fired without references – bartender followed her. Gabrielle's lip curled up in disgust. She was well aware that Deanna could be vicious and manipulative, but this level of tacky and vulgar? Already, people were stopping what they were doing to watch the woman weave through the ballroom. By the end of the evening, it would be all through the hospital staff (maybe it was just her imagination, but Gabrielle could swear people were already getting out their phones) that Deanna Richardson had screwed a bartender at the hospital ball while Jack was meters away. That Deanna was already screwing around was a moot point, because Jack had managed to keep that one to himself. Scandals didn't get much better than this.

Jack made a beeline for her. When confronted with the mask of fury on Jack's face, Deanna glared defiantly at him and swayed on her feet. "My dear husband," she said sarcastically. "Decided to be a proper husband yet?"

He grabbed her hand roughly. Just when he thought Deanna couldn't sink any lower, she thought of something worse to do. He didn't give a damn if she wanted to have sex with twenty-year-old bartenders; he did care that she chose to do it at the hospital ball, the ball she had blackmailed him into taking her to. By the end of the night, it would be all over the hospital that Deanna was openly screwing around on him. He'd be a complete joke. _Doctor Quade can't get his wife to respect him, can't satisfy her_. "I'm taking you home," he said, his voice as rough as his grip.

"Hey!" Deanna yelled at him, incensed that he should manhandle her like that furious that the only time he cared to touch her was to haul her out of a social event – when he'd been pretty cosy with Gabrielle earlier. "You bastard, let me go!" She flung her vodka-and-lemon in his face.

The alcohol stung his eyes, but he wasn't going to back down. For a second, Gabrielle thought he would hit her, but quick as a flash, he wrapped his hand around her throat and applied pressure to knock her out. She went limp in his arms. "Hey!" the bartender yelled indignantly. He backed off when Jack flashed his eyes angrily at him.

"What's your name?" he asked, peering at the idiot's name badge. "Brad. I'll have you reported for this. Gabby, can you...?" Already knowing what he was asking for, Gabrielle had Deanna's jacket and bag in her hands in a second. She trailed Jack out to his car.

"Are you OK to drive?" she asked.

Jack nodded, suddenly very tired and very fed up. Deanna had put the screws on him to take her to this damn thing and now she'd completely humiliated him. "Like I was going to drink when I had such a loose cannon rolling around," he said, although if he ran into a booze bus on the way home, he was going to have fun explaining that no, he was perfectly sober.

"Sorry," she found herself saying, even though she hadn't done anything to inflame the situation except maybe dance with him, and that was hardly a crime - especially not in light of the fact Deanna had retaliated by screwing some bartender.

"It's not your fault," he said tiredly. He wanted to hug her, but he didn't want to get the smell of vodka all over her, so he squeezed her arm instead.

"What happened?" Caitlen asked when Jack awkwardly carried Deanna into the house a little while later. It had been the closest proximity he had been to her in months, and he hated every second of it. He hated the feel of her, hated that perfume she wore, especially hated the fact she reeked of sex. Jack explained, and Caitlen listened in horror. She'd met her fair share of skanks over the years, but none like Deanna, none as vicious or trashy or downright nasty. She was so going to bring this up the next time someone brought up the stereotype of the uneducated country hick.

"If you can help me get her into bed, that would be great," Jack said. "I need a shower." The feel of Deanna seemed to cling to him even more than the smell of alcohol. Caitlen helped him get Deanna into bed and he spent nearly half an hour in the shower, emerging smelling of soap, shampoo and Listerine.

"Clean enough?" Caitlen asked with a wry smile. Jack made a face, and Caitlen got serious. "What are you going to do about her?" she asked.

Jack shrugged. "What can I do?" he asked quietly. "For reasons unknown to anyone capable of rational thought, she's determined to be a surgeon's wife. She'd rather be locked in this miserable marriage than to be free and clear with a generous cash settlement."

Impulsively, she leant in to hug him. He pushed her away. "Don't," he said irritably. "I'm not in the mood." He didn't add that he was finding it increasingly hard to be around women, especially attractive young women, lately. He'd known when he'd entered this marriage that he wasn't free to make any commitment to anyone else, and it wasn't fair to let women think he was, but somehow, after a year, it seemed a lot harder than he had thought it would be. "I'm going to bed, OK. I'll see you in the morning."

The next morning, Caitlen woke up to a screaming match between Jack and Deanna. "You embarrassed me!" she yelled at him.

"_I_ embarrassed _you_?" he asked incredulously. "What, everyone important at the hospital seeing you come out of a service room with a _bartender_ is nothing?" _I hope he was a lousy lay, _Jack thought spitefully. _I hope he gave you something_.

"I hate you!" Deanna screamed. She regretted last night. She had taken a cheap swipe at Jack as retribution for dancing with that country slut; if she had been sober, she would have realised it was a bad idea. But then, it was Jack's own fault that he had been dancing with her, neglecting his own wife.

"Fine, give me a divorce then!"

Deanna's eyes narrowed. "You try to leave me and I'll make sure you never see Ella," she threatened.

Jack rubbed his forehead, something he'd taken to doing lately because Deanna had quite a talent for bringing on massive headaches. It always came down to that. Until Ella was old enough to make her own decision (and Jack was sure that by the time she was old enough to talk, she would tell anyone who would listen that she'd much rather live with her dad), the family courts were likely to rule in Deanna's favour. God, he hated her sometimes. "I'm going to work," he said by way of finishing the argument. "Don't ever ask me to take you anywhere again."

"Don't stop me from enjoying myself," Deanna countered.

"Believe me, if it means I don't have to see you, I won't do anything to stop you," he responded angrily. He stormed out, and had to stop off for a coffee to calm down and think before he headed to the hospital.

He did one surgery, and since he had a chunk of free time, he decided to go and see Gabrielle. Of everyone, he was the most embarrassed that she had witnessed Deanna's behaviour and their confrontation. No-one else mattered, at least not the way she did. He was a little surprised by the extent of his feelings about it. Somewhere along the line they had become close; she was someone he could talk to, someone who made him laugh, made him feel good about himself. They gelled.

He knocked on the door to the office Gabrielle shared with Zoe and Frank, ignoring all the looks in his direction. He knew everyone was talking about him and Deanna. He knew it was the best bit of scandal since, well, Deanna had revealed her true colours. _Jack Quade, emasculated by a complete bitch_. He held his head high, determined to ignore them.

Gabrielle wasn't there, but Zoe was, sitting at the desk she shared with Frank. "Jack," she said, not particularly surprised to see him, because he and Gabrielle had long since taken to bumming rides off each other and grabbing a drink or coffee after work, so he was in the ED more than usual. "Look, I just wanted to tell you how sorry I am bout last night."

Jack shrugged, pretending like it didn't matter. "I was well aware of what a slut my wife is when I married her," he said. Zoe decided to overlook his bitterness. Deanna's behaviour would have made a saint bitter. "I was just seeing if Gabby was around."

"I'm glad you're here, and I'm glad you brought that up, actually," Zoe admitted, glad Jack had given her an opening line.

Jack raised his eyebrows at her. "I'm sorry?"

"It's about your... friendship." Jack frowned. He didn't like the way Zoe put an emphasis on _friendship_, as if it was something more than that... some tawdrier.

"What about it?" he asked coolly.

"Look, people are talking," Zoe said bluntly. "It's not a good look for a woman to be so obvious close to a married man... let alone a man who's marriage is as, um, _unconventional_ as yours."

Jack had to laugh at that. "C'mon, Zoe, this is me. You can say it for what it is. I can't stand her and she has sex with bartenders at the ball she blackmailed me into taking her to. Hey, at least I can say I knew exactly what I was getting myself into when I married her," he added. When he saw Zoe flinch slightly at the degree of his bitterness, he apologised. "Sorry, we had a big fight this morning. I'm not in the best of moods. Look, tell me plainly what this is about."

She was grateful that Jack seemed prepared for her honest opinion, which was far more than she got from Frank. "Jack, you know I was married, but you don't know that it ended because I cheated on him." Jack looked surprised; Zoe had always seemed so prim-and-proper that he would never have suspected infidelity from her. "I know exactly how badly these things can reflect on the woman... and leave the man relatively scot-free. You keep being as pally with Gabrielle as you are, and people are going to talk more than they already do... and believe me, Jack, they talk enough already."

Jack crossed his arms over his chest. "I hope you know I would never do that to someone I care about as much as her," he about hissed.

Zoe blanched at Jack's anger. "I know, Frank already said that. But it doesn't stop people from talking. Jack, try to see it from a woman's perspective. If people think she's involved with you as more than a friend, then it will be _her_ they call a slut, not you."

"If Gabrielle doesn't want to be mates with me anymore, that's her call," Jack said. "But I'm not about to chuck away one of the best mates I've ever had. Look... just tell her I came looking for her, OK?" And with that, he walked off.

Gabrielle found him a few hours later in the surgeon's lounge, reading of one his high-literature books. "I spoke to Zoe," she said,

He scooted over on the couch so she could sit down. "I don't want to ruin your name," he admitted. "You, Bec and Ella are the best things that have ever happened to me but... if you don't want to be mates anymore, then I understand."

Gabrielle couldn't help but beaming at that. "I really mean that much to you?" she asked. "That I come in third?"

"Well... distant third," he amended. "But yeah."

Gabrielle grabbed his wrist. "That means a lot to me," she said, her tone saying so much more than her words. She had had other boyfriends, had a lover, but she'd never been with a man who made her feel that she came third in his life after the two relatives he gave a shit about. "Why don't you come over to finish watching _Carnivale_?" she asked. "I've missed our DVD nights."

Despite himself, Jack said yes.

* * *

"Oh, that feels so good," Gabrielle admitted. She was sitting between his legs, her nightgown mostly undone, her silky nighty revealed, as Jack massaged her shoulders while they pretended to watch a DVD. The conversation had somehow drifted to the fact the back and shoulders hurt from so much work on her feet and hunched over a desk that Jack had offered to give her a shoulder rub and, well, things had kind of ended up as they were...

After he was finished, Gabrielle pulled up the straps to her nighty, and pulled up her nightgown. "Thanks," she told him gratefully. "You're good at that."

"No problem." She didn't make a move to get out from between his legs, and he didn't make a move to make her. Instead, he wrapped his arms around her waist and rested his head on her shoulder. She responded by leaning back against him. There was something so pleasant about being with Jack. It wasn't just that he was fun to talk to and made her laugh – and gave good shoulder rubs. She trusted him. It had been a while since she'd had a male friend – actually, Steve hadn't liked her having male friends.

And it didn't hurt that Jack wasn't exactly unpleasant to look at, or that she could feel the strength in his arms and chest. Or that he smelled so clean and healthy. She could detect faint traces of the shampoo he used, and found herself remembering how silky his hair felt. She blushed at the thought, and was glad she had her back to him and he couldn't see the red in her face. _What, I can't appreciate that the guy's good-looking?_ She asked herself defensively. _Bet he likes having someone appreciate him. Bet Deanna never tells him when he looks good_. That she thought he looked good after a long surgery with blood on his scrubs was beside the point.

Eventually, Jack had to leave. He had an early surgery the next day, as much as he would rather blow it off and hang out with Gabrielle. "I really enjoyed myself," he told her in the driveway next to his car. He'd gotten as far as de-immobilising it, but hadn't yet opened the door. Once he opened the door, he'd have to get in, and once he got in, he'd have to drive off. And he'd much rather stay in the driveway, as cold as it was. "Thanks for getting me to come over. Sometimes I get so caught up with Ella and work that I forget I need something more than that."

"It was my pleasure," she said, and it had been. Jack wasn't the only one who could get so caught up with work that they forgot they needed more. And she found it so hard to make friends, too.

She was shivering a little, and Jack knew he had to go so she could go back inside where it was warm. He hugged her, and her arms went around his neck and she pushed her body against his, burying her head in his shoulder. He found himself kissing the top of her head and thinking how good she felt and how nice she smelled. He found himself running his hands up and down her back, and told himself it was only to warm her up a little. "You're my best friend, you know that," he said huskily, feeling a little embarrassed, like he was telling her he loved her or something. He justified that he was just a little starved for affection. _A little_? He asked himself ruefully. _The only other time you've held a woman in the last year was to haul Deanna to your car_.

"You're my best friend, too," she whispered back. It seemed like talking too loudly would break the mood, and being in Jack's arms felt so good, even if they weren't actually doing anything.

"And you're tall enough that I don't have to crick my neck just to hug you," he quipped lightly. Had it really only been two years since he had thought the fact he had a clear foot on Terri was cute? She was shivering harder now, and he reluctantly pulled away from her. "Go inside before you catch cold," he ordered.

"No-one ever caught a cold by being _in _the cold, Doctor," Gabrielle said with a smile.

Jack poked his tongue out at her. "Just go inside," he directed her. He waited until she was in the house before he got into his car and drive off.

* * *

_She let herself into his room wearing that blue nighty, only she didn't have her nightgown on and now he could see how silky it was, how it hugged her figure. He wasn't surprised to see her; although he hadn't thought about it until now, he'd been expecting her. _

_"Hi," she said, walking towards his bed and slipping under the doona. She straddled him and, without preamble, kissed him hard. One hand went around her back, steadying her, and the other to the back of her head, pushing her against him forcefully, as if she could somehow get away if he didn't. He met her tongue with his own and kissed her back just as hard. Christ, but she tasted even nicer than he'd thought she would. She rubbed her body against his and he could feel the softness of her breasts against the hardness of his abs and pushed her harder against her. He couldn't get close enough to her, wanted to be fused to her, wanted to be _inside_ her. He moved his hand down her back and under her nighty. Her skin felt warm and clean and she smelled like the soap she'd been wearing earlier. Soap – and desire. "Gabby," he moaned, pulling away from her so he could explore her face, her neck, her shoulders with his mouth, feeling like he could just about devour her._

_"Jack," she whispered, and he could hear the lust in her voice. She arched her neck and grabbed his hair tightly. He applied pressure, and he hadn't realised until now just how badly he wanted to leave his mark on her. She abandoned his hair to run her hands down his back and under his t-shirt. She bucked when he felt her hands against his skin._

_He reluctantly pulled away so he could get his shirt off, then mashed his mouth against hers as if he needed to kiss her more than he needed to breathe. Now that his shirt was off, she was free to roam his upper body, and the sensation was driving him crazy. With her crotch gyrating against his, it wasn't long before his desire was obvious. "You want something?" she teased. Shamelessly, she snaked her hand down his chest and under the elastic of his boxers. She stroked him, and he could feel himself getting so hard that if he didn't do something about it, he felt he'd hurt himself._

_She was wearing some flimsy g-string and since the thought of her getting off him to remove them was unbearable, he twisted the material in his fingers and yanked hard to tear them off. She responded by pulling his boxers down to his thighs and positioning herself so she was right on top of him. He didn't need to feel her to know how wet she was; he already knew. He knew she wanted it as badly as he did, knew she was as tightly wound from months and months of repressed desire as he was._

_For a few seconds, she teased him, holding him tantalisingly close to her so he could feel her wetness without being able to satiate his hunger. Grunting, he grabbed her hips and pulled her down onto him, pushing himself into her as far as he could go. He held her there and moaned loudly. _Ohgodohgodohgod_, he thought. He hadn't realised how much he'd wanted to do this, how hungry he'd been to be inside her, feel her wetness around him. He was as far inside her as he could go and still he wished he could get in deeper. "Gabby!" he cried out. He eased up on his grip and she began riding him. Her breasts strained against the material of her nighty, and he reached out, grabbed the top of it and tore it down the middle. He pulled her towards him so he could kiss her breasts, first one, then the other, sucking hard, wishing he could get more of her in his mouth. His hands roamed over her body, over her stomach, down her back, grabbing her ass, thrusting hard as she rode him just as hard the whole time. His hand snaked around to her front, between her legs, and he used his fingers to give her exquisite pleasure. Her moans became louder and more frantic as she started to orgasm. She climaxed but kept riding him until he knew that as much as he wanted this to last forever, he couldn't hold back and, with a strangled cry, he came, flooding her, his juices flowing and flowing for what felt like several minutes... _

Jack bolted up in bed so suddenly that he it took him several seconds to realise that he was very much alone. He felt the stickiness and felt very ashamed. He hadn't had a dream like that in years – had prided himself on it, actually. He wasn't some desperate loser who couldn't get laid so the release he needed came only from his subconscious. And Gabrielle was his _friend_, his best friend. She'd be horrified to knowing he fantasised about her like that.

After shame came guilt. No wonder Zoe had been worried. He was a healthy male, still relatively young, locked in a loveless marriage and deprived of sex for a year. Spending time with an attractive young woman, having her sit in his lap and let him touch her the way he had earlier that evening – if he didn't feel so guilty and ashamed, he would understand it was natural for his body to start getting ideas.

But all he could think about was how disgusted Gabrielle would be if she knew about this dream.

He got out of bed and stripped the sheets, dumping them in the laundry basket. He'd have to wash them before Caitlen did it. The girl all but hero-worshiped him, she'd be horrified to know what was going on in his subconscious.

After he'd taken care of the linen, he'd had a shower for over half an hour, scrubbing his skin, and especially the offending member, until he felt raw. He hadn't felt dirty like this since – well, that wasn't something he wanted to think about.

He made the bed with fresh linen and wished now he hadn't thrown out his diazepam, because no way was he getting back to sleep now. He tossed and turned for the rest of the night, thinking that this was about as bad as his life could get.

He wasn't to know it was about to get a lot worse.


	5. Chapter 5

Jack and Mike were in surgery together, working on a patient who's leg had been injured in a boating accident, when he spotted the tattoo. It was one he would never forget.

_He was thirteen, and had found, or thought he had found, a father-figure in Patrick Wesley. The man encouraged his intelligence and scholastic ability, he found him odd jobs to do which gave him his own cash, he took him to movies, let him swim in his pool, praised him and demonstrated an interest in him that he was sorely lacking from his own father._

_Shortly after his thirteenth birthday, Jack woke up from a nap to find Patrick had put him on his stomach and taken his clothes off. Patrick had told him to take it easy, then hit him hard across the backside when he'd protested, then made him a 'deal'; if he didn't struggle, didn't scream, Patrick would be considerate enough to use lubricant, which wouldn't tear him up quite so much as without. Jack had cried and pleaded, and Patrick had taunted him about how he had flaunted his adolescent body in his swimmers, followed him around like a puppy wanting attention. He had been begging Patrick to pay him this kind of attention, begging Patrick to cultivate his sexuality._

To this day, Jack wondered if Patrick truly believed that or it was just something he said. It wouldn't surprise him that Patrick truly believed it; it was kind of hard to justify raping a child for what it was.

"Jack, are you OK?" Mike asked when he saw his protégé freeze. "Jack?"

_Patrick raped him as casually as he would congratulate Jack on an A for a school assignment. Even with lubricant, the pain had been so excruciating that Jack had thought it was Patrick's intention to kill him. He made Jack shower afterwards and sent him home as casually as if it had been just another day. Jack got home to be told by his step-mother Stella that Patrick had complained Jack had stolen from him he would go back and work off his debt for as long as Patrick saw fit. When Jack had tried to tell her what had happened, she had given him the worse belting yet for 'making up lies about a respected member of the community'._

"Jack? What the hell is wrong with you?"

_When he'd gone back a few days later, still feeling like someone had ripped him in two. Patrick had ordered him onto his knees than calmly explained that he could get on his knees or he could get on his stomach. Jack had gotten onto his knees, thrown up immediately afterwards and to this day couldn't stand to be kissed after a woman had gone down on him. It had taken Jack two years to pay off his 'debt', at which point Patrick no doubt moved onto someone younger and less used. In the mean time, he had subjected Jack to over a dozen rapes and countless blow jobs..._

"Jack, get out," Mike finally ordered. Jack dropped his scalpel; it landed on the floor with a loud clatter. He bolted out the OR door like a frightened rabbit.

"What the hell was that about?" Mike asked Jack when he caught up with him later.

"None of your business," Jack said moodily. Mike stared at him in puzzlement. He knew the younger man wasn't a big fan of his for the way he had abruptly left the year before, thinking Mike had gone on holiday rather than to rehab, but that didn't explain why he had frozen up in surgery.

"I can't have you in my OR if I don't know what's going on," Mike told him. He wondered if it was to do with Deanna. It had only been a few weeks since she had humiliated him at the ball, but people were still talking about it. If Mike had been in Jack's shoes, he probably would have killed her. But Jack was Jack, and he wouldn't dare do anything that would jeopardise his access to Ella.

"Fine," Jack said, as if surgery meant nothing to him after he had busted his gut become a registrar.

"Go easy on the kid," Frank said when Mike vented his frustration. "He's been through a lot. Let him know where you were. He was so angry when you left, he thinks you abandoned him to go on holidays. Maybe if you confide in him, he'll confide in you." That was, if he wasn't busy confiding in Gabrielle. Zoe's attempts to put their brakes on their friendship had backfired; Gabrielle and Jack being the stubborn people that they were had instead started seeing more of each other. Frank had no doubt that there was nothing more to it than friendship, but he was one of the few to believe that.

Mike found Jack later and admitted he'd been in rehab for a morphine addiction. "How did you know him?" he asked, his tone more gentle. Now that his irritation had passed, he remembered that Jack had seemed _frightened_, which didn't sound at all like Jack. "Friend, family member?"

"Neither," Jack said bitterly.

"When did you meet him?"

"When I was thirteen."

Christ, this was like pulling teeth. "How well did you know him?" Mike asked.

"Better than I wanted to," Jack replied, and walked off, leaving a stunned Mike in his wake. He had known Jack's childhood hadn't been great. His mother had abandoned him when he was eighteen months old and left him to be raised by his father and step-mother. Stella had hated him instantly, holding him responsible for his father's infidelities, belting him for any little thing. Mike knew that because he'd walked in on Jack once when he was changing, and seen the scars across the small of his back. They weren't the marks of someone who believed a spanking now and then was good discipline; they were the marks of someone who had used a belt, frequently and viciously, viciously enough to draw blood. Mike already knew that. But he had never suspected Jack had been sexually abused. But then – the abusive and neglect he had suffered at the hands of his father and step-mother made him the perfect prey for a paedophile; lure them in, get them to believe you're the only one who understands, turn on them when they have no-one else to turn to.

_Poor kid_, Mike thought, feeling deep sympathy for Jack. Not only did he have to relive such a traumatic childhood, but he had no better than Deanna to go home to.

* * *

Jack's day got that little bit worse when he saw Deanna's car in the driveway. She was always off on some trip or another – business trips, holidays with friends, nights out on the town where she didn't get back til the afternoon then went out again to do the same thing that night – so for the most part, it was just him and Caitlen, and Jack liked it that way. But for her to have chosen to reappear at a time like this, when he just wanted to crawl away and die. He couldn't believe his bad luck.

"You look awful," she commented when she saw him. She did no trouble to hide her drinking now, and every day he saw more of the woman she had always been – she had just hidden that side of her long enough for him to fall in love with her, and ruin his life over it.

"Where's Caitlen?" he asked. He hoped her drinking meant she was going out.

She shrugged. Since Jack had caught her out neglecting Ella, she hadn't bothered to hide how indifferent she was to the child's welfare – beyond the fact that a healthy little girl tied Jack to her for a long time. It was why she tolerated Caitlen. She didn't like Jack have a gorgeous, barely legal girl in the house, but it beat taking care of Ella herself. "Took Ella somewhere."

_Figures_, Jack thought. She'd probably gotten Ella out of the house the second Deanna had hit the vodka. "You didn't answer me," she continued on, eying him critically. She wondered when he had last slept. She had overheard Caitlen on the phone to that dorky little boyfriend of hers (she figured he _had_ to be dorky, if he was related to that country mouse that Deanna so detested) that she'd often heard Jack prowling around the house when he thought she was asleep.

"You didn't ask a question."

_Typical Jack to be so pedantic_. "Why do you look so awful?" she asked.

"None of your business."

"Someone's in a crabby mood," she said snidely.

"Someone's married to a bitch," he shot back, just as snidely. He closed his eyes. He knew he was getting mean and surly and short-tempered, but he couldn't help it. His dreams disrupted his sleep, and when he was awake, well, all he could think about were the same things he dreamed about.

Deanna glared at him. She didn't like it when Jack got in one of his mean moods; usually he just shrugged off her comments and left her to her own devices. She resented that he mostly ignored and avoided her, but it was better than when he was being outright nasty. She had known his step-mother had been Queen Bitch when it came to being verbally and emotionally abusive, but she hadn't realised until recently how much he had learnt from her. "Go to hell," she muttered, going back to her vodka.

_You first_, he thought to himself before going to his room. With any luck – not that he'd had much lately – Deanna would either go out soon enough or pass out drunk and be quiet for at least ten hours. He rubbed his eyes. God, he was tired, but sleep was something he was becoming increasingly apprehensive about. He couldn't remember the last time he'd had a goodnight's sleep. _I'll just lie down for a minute, until she's gone out or passed out, then I'll go fix myself a drink and read for a while_, he said. Kicking off his shoes, he lay down and slipped into a deep sleep.

* * *

_Ella's crying made him stir in his sleep. He felt a warm hand on his shoulder, gently reassuring. "Don't worry, I'll take care of it," Gabrielle said. Instead of going back to sleep, he woke up fully and watched her lift Ella from her cradle and guide the crying baby to her breast with such ease as if she had been doing it for years, not months. As if receiving his unspoken wish, she turned to face him so he could watch her. There was nothing erotic about it; rather, something beautiful and natural, an act of bonding that he felt jealous that he couldn't share._

_When she was finished, she put Ella down again and rocked her until she fell back asleep. She crawled back into bed and snuggled up against Jack. He stroked her bare skin and the sensation was like a soothing lullaby, rocking him to sleep as effectively as she had done with Ella. "I love you," he whispered as he fell asleep, cuddling up to her and feeling like everything was right with the world..._

Jack woke up reluctantly, his subconscious mind knowing that the dead of the night in waking reality had nothing on the dream. _Crap_, he thought when he was fully awake, although at least he wasn't waking up in a cold sweat remembering the living nightmare that had been Patrick Wesley, or waking up sticky because apparently his subconscious mind was a talented porn writer. He curled up in the foetal position and groaned. He couldn't stop thinking about either of them. He'd been doing his best to avoid her, and he knew he'd hurt her feelings. But what was he supposed to say? _Sorry, I keep having these dreams about you and it's best that I not be around you_.

He heard Deanna get up downstairs and crash about on her way to her room. He groaned again, and pulled the pillow over his ears. What in God's name had he ever done to deserve this life?

* * *

"Caitlen, if you have something to say to me, I'd prefer you said it to my face. I don't like being stared at like I'm an animal in the zoo."

Caitlen wasn't all that surprised by the tone in Jack's voice. He had been tired and grumpy for weeks now. "Fine," she said. "When was the last time you slept a full night? I hear you prowling around the house when you think Deanna and I are asleep."

"You've been spying on me," he accused.

"I have not! I live in the same house as you, Jack, I kind of know your routines."

"You know, you're getting just a smart-alecy as Gabrielle," he said. He didn't like to admit Caitlen had a point, he knew he looked exhausted and was snapping more and more frequently over increasingly trivial things.

"And you're getting just as bitchy as Deanna," Caitlen retorted. Jack was her boss, but she was too high-spirited to let him speak to her like that.

For a second, Jack stared at her irritably and thought about telling her she could go back to the hick town she'd come from. Then reason won. He couldn't afford to lose the best nanny ever over a few words, and besides, Caitlen was only telling the truth – both about the fact he looked awful, and the fact he was becoming bitchy. Maybe not as bitchy as his wife, but he knew he was meaner and more irritable than he had been in the past. "Sorry," he backed down. "I'm just tired. I haven't been sleeping well lately."

"I've noticed."

"He actually said that to you?" Gabrielle asked Caitlen later. The two women had caught up for coffee while Jack was in surgery – Caitlen had Ella in tow, and there was a constant stream of attention from people who wanted to admire Jack's gorgeous little girl, and men who used the pretence as an excuse to talk to his even more gorgeous nanny. Not for the first time it struck Gabrielle how unaffected Caitlen was by the attention. That was a salt-of-the-earth upbringing for you, she thought. "He actually said you were becoming as smart-alecy as me?" Gabrielle wasn't sure why, but knowing Jack had said that hurt. She knew some dark cloud had passed into Jack's life and he was increasingly bitter and withdrawn, but to say something like that about her. She was opinionated and no pushover, for sure, but _smart-alec_?

Caitlen nodded. "I thought he was going to fire me when I said he was getting as bitchy as Deanna," she admitted.

"He's not going to fire you, he needs you too much," Gabrielle assured her, hoping it was true, that whatever had gotten into Jack lately hadn't possessed him so much that he would think about letting her go.

"I'm not sure," Caitlen admitted. "Sometimes he gets so lost in whatever's bugging him that it seems like he doesn't register where he is."

Gabrielle felt her stomach sink at Caitlen's description. Jack _had_ been like that lately – lost in some other reality, and not a pleasant one. She had tried to talk to him, but he seemed determined to push her out especially. She had tried to ascertain if something had gone wrong – worse than usual – with Deanna but he responded with monosyllables and informed her that Deanna was no worse a slut and a bitch and a lousy mother than she usually was. So then what was bugging him? Gabrielle hated seeing him like this. She hated seeing a friend in such misery, and it wasn't good for Ella, either.

"You care about him, don't you," Caitlen prompted, interrupting Gabrielle's reverie.

"Of course I do, he's my best mate," she said, as if Caitlen was questioning that.

"I didn't mean in that way," Caitlen clarified.

For a second, Gabrielle stared at her, trying to understand Caitlen's meaning. She was a young, sheltered country girl, but for all that, she had remarkable insight at times. "He's married," Gabrielle said sharply. She wondered if Caitlen had said anything to Ben. No, Gabrielle decided, she wouldn't have. If she had, Ben would have said something to their father, and she would have heard from him by now.

"Not really," Caitlen argued. As a front-line witness to the wreck that was Jack and Deanna's marriage, she knew better than anyone, even Gabrielle, what a farce it was.

"Uh, _yeah_, really," Gabrielle said. "Signing a certificate makes it a _real_ marriage. I can't believe you'd think – "

"Look, I'm sorry. You're right, I wasn't thinking. I just see how unhappy he is all the time. He deserves better in his life." She didn't speak the words _he deserves someone like you_, but they hung in the air anyway.

"I'll talk to him again," Gabrielle said, choosing to ignore Caitlen's unspoken words. She was just a girl who didn't know what she was talking about – or, rather, held _Romeo and Juliet_ up as the most romantic relationship ever. Besides, Jack needed a friend right now, not a girlfriend. And she would be his friend. She would _make_ him accept her friendship. She knew Jack well enough to know how proud and stubborn he could be, but she could be just as proud, just as stubborn.

* * *

"Jack, you look awful. When was the last time you slept properly?"

Jack glared tiredly at Mike. He was sick of comments about his appearance. He knew he wasn't looking great these days. He rarely slept more than a couple of hours at a time, and his nights were usually broken up by dreams – some pleasant fantasies about a happy life with Gabrielle, some erotic ones, nightmares about Patrick that left him in a cold sweat and his mind convinced that his body was still in excruciating pain. Most people figured things between he and Deanna had hit a particularly rough patch, but Mike knew about Patrick. Mike knew the dark cloud that had descended over his life was because of the paedophile who had repeatedly raped him as a teenager had re-entered his life, and not because his wife was as much of a bitch and a slut as she always had been. "I'm fine," he snapped.

"You are not. I take it you know Bianca Frost has taken to calling you Doctor Panda?" he asked. Jack stared at Mike, too tired to get it. "Pale face, dark eyes. You look like you can barely stand up, Jack. If you keep going on like this, I can't have you on my staff. I can't put my patients at risk by assigning them a surgeon who looks about ready to drop from exhaustion."

Jack shrugged. "If that's how you feel," he said stiffly. Once upon a time, surgery had been the most important thing in his life. Now... it was as if everything, including Ella, paled to grey and the only thing he could think of was Patrick Wesley. When he wasn't dreaming about Gabrielle.

Mike wasn't exactly surprised that Jack seemed indifferent to being taken off the surgical team. Ever since Patrick had come back into his life, Jack had been despondent, losing interest in the things that had once meant so much to him, including Ella. All he could think about was the bastard who had destroyed so much of him as a teenager. And having Deanna to return to could only make things worse.

"Hey," he said, taking a gentler approach. He reached out to touch Jack's arm, but Jack flinched back violently. Mike backed off. "You can't keep things bottled up," he reminded Jack. "It's going to eat you up and do you really want to give him that extra satisfaction?" Jack shook his head slightly. "You should talk to someone," Mike urged. "It doesn't need to be a counsellor – what about Dan, you guys seemed pretty close for a while? Or Gabrielle? I _know_ you guys are really close, and you always seem so much happier around her." Mike, like everyone else, had heard the rumours (largely, he suspected, circulated by Bianca Frost) about their closeness, and had chosen to ignore it. If Jack had someone who could make him laugh, that could only be a good thing. Jack just shrugged indifferently, as if Gabrielle were nothing more than a casual acquaintance. "Jack?" Mike repeated. "Why don't you talk to Gabrielle?"

"I can't talk to her," Jack said shortly.

"What, spending the whole night with her at the ball, that wasn't talking?" Mike asked incredulously.

"I just can't talk to her," Jack insisted.

"Why not?"

"I'm not comfortable around her."

Mike stared at Jack, puzzled by this sounded turnaround in his attitude towards the nurse. "I don't get it, you guys have been so close since she started working here. Why the sudden change of heart?

"Drop it, Mike," Jack commanded roughly.

But Mike was Jack's boss, not the other way around. More than that, he was concerned for Jack's state of mind, and the fact he had seemingly lost all interest in someone who had weeks previously been his rock was a concern to him. "I'll drop it when you tell me what's going on between the two of you. Has Deanna said or done something?" Deanna's dislike of Caitlen was obvious, and even she had to grasp that Jack wasn't about to do anything with a teenager, no matter how attractive she was. But Gabrielle was a whole other story – his own age, close to him, close than he and Deanna had ever been. In a warped way, Mike felt a little sorry for her, that his relationship with Gabrielle had been such a contrast to his relationship with Deanna. Had she said or done something to make Jack feel the best thing for everyone was not to see her anymore?

"No." Deanna didn't care what he did so long as he remained married to her and paid the bills. Besides, Deanna thought he had too much honour to play around, even if it was only what she did.

"Then what?"

Jack had turned his face away from Mike's, and now he snapped his neck back so quickly that Mike fear for whiplash. "I can't stop thinking about her, OK?" Jack admitted. The shame in her voice was evident. "Every night when I go to sleep I either dream about Patrick... or her."

"Dreams? What kind of dreams?" Jack looked away, his face burning, and Mike understood. So _that's_ why he'd been so distant towards her lately. Gabrielle herself had expressed frustration that Jack was holding her at length, but Mike had just assumed he was keeping _everyone_ at arm's length because of his issues with Patrick. He slumped back in his chair, thinking about the situation Jack was in. No wonder he felt embarrassed. No point in telling him that he was a healthy young adult who had the desires of a healthy young male adult, and it was natural for those desires to veer in the direction of someone he spent so much time with. Jack was all too aware of how dirty and humiliating it was to be used for someone's sexual outlet; Mike was willing to bet real money on the fact Jack had likened his fantasies with Gabrielle to Patrick's interest in him. "You can't beat yourself up for finding someone attractive," he said.

Jack clenched his fists into palms so tightly that Mike could just about _feel_ the nails digging into the palms, _see_ the half-moon shaped marks in the flesh. "Mike, every time I see her – all I can think about it... it's driving me insane." He would run into her at the hospital, dressed in her far-from-revealing uniform, and he could still picture her in that nighty. She'd be talking to him, and it was all he could do not to kiss her. He'd never had it this bad for a woman, and knew, just _knew_ that she wouldn't appreciate being the object of lust from a married man.

"Do you care about her?"

"Of course I do. She's my best friend."

"That's not what I meant."

Jack finally met Mike's eyes, and Mike saw just how distressed he was. "I knew what you meant," Jack said quietly, and his answer was in his tone. He had romantic feelings for her, and he felt deeply ashamed because of it. Mike knew enough of Jack's troubled childhood to know his father had been a compulsive philanderer, and the idea of subjecting a woman to the kind of behaviour his father had considered perfectly acceptable sickened him. Just having thoughts about Gabrielle must be troubling for him.

"You should talk to her."

"And tell her what? Every other night I dream about screwing your brains out and even though I know I'm married, why don't we do a little play-acting? I'd humiliate her. She'd be devastated."

"And you think she's not already upset that you're avoiding her?"

"Better that she be upset than know why I'm avoiding her," Jack argued. He could just picture the look of horror on Gabrielle's face if she knew the feelings he'd been having about her. He thought about Patrick, all the time he'd spent luring Jack's into his trap, all the times he must have watched Jack getting changed, dressed in only his swimmers, being turned on by his barely-covered body, and Jack shuddered visibly in disgust. To think about someone else like that, for them to _know _he was thinking about them like that... "She'll think I'm the biggest asshole on the planet."

"You should give her more credit," Mike suggested. Jack turned his head away. Mike sighed. The boy could be stubborn sometimes. He was shutting everyone out, determined that he could sort his life out himself. Mike wondered how much happiness it would cost him before he realised that no, he actually couldn't.

* * *

Jack cocked his head to the side of the entertainment room the stairs were on. The tread didn't sound familiar. Caitlen, despite her gazelle-like proportions that Kate Moss would envy, thumped along like an elephant (Jack had always been curious if that was a straight-out-of-the-country thing.) And Deanna – not that she had dared entered 'his' part of the house in months – didn't walk like that either. His brow furrowed. Who the hell had Caitlen let into the house, let alone directed to his room?

"Hey, it's just me," Gabrielle said cheerfully, poking her head, then the rest of her body, around the door. "Caitlen let me in." She still had her key, but she figured that was best left for a real emergency, not an emergency of the your-best-mate's-in-a-funk kind. "You keep avoiding me so I figured you couldn't go far in your own room."

He noticed she was carrying a bag heavy with what he assumed was supplies. "Beer, popcorn and DVDs," she said. "I would have brought you KFC but I know how you feel about deep-friend food."

"Gabs, I'm not in the mood for company right now," he told her, not meaning to sound as short as he had.

"Well, I'm not in the mood for my best mate to start avoiding me, so we're even," she countered. "Jack, you said I was your best friend. You said you loved me. Plenty of men have said they loved me 'cos they wanted to get laid... but only one ever said it 'cos he wanted my friendship. You're not allowed to take that away from me."

Her voice was so no-nonsense, her sentiment so touching, that Jack, even under his dark cloud of self-pity and his reluctance to be on the same floor, let alone in the same room as Gabrielle, didn't have the heart to make her go. "What did you bring?" he asked.

Her face lit up. She was glad Jack had caved so quickly."_Wild Things_," she said proudly. "It was something dad never let us watch."

That didn't surprise Jack. From what Caitlen had told him, Russel Jaeger was something of a conservative, over-protective dad. You couldn't really blame the guy; losing his wife when his children, especially his son, had been so young, made you want to cling to what family you had left. Since Jack didn't consider Deanna family, he knew exactly what it was like to be a single parent. He'd be bloody protective of Ella, too, when she got to a certain age. Which meant no watching movies that involved two gorgeous actresses in hot lesbian/threesome scenes. He didn't blame Gabrielle for going crazy in the MA- and R-rated section of the DVD store. What he _did_ feel resentment over was that she had brought over a sexy movie when he was already having trouble not thinking about her in a sexy way.

He started to protest, but Gabrielle 'shushed' him, and went ahead and put the bag of popcorn in the microwave. "We haven't hung out in _ages_," she gushed. "You've been so tired lately – that's what you always say – so I figured you could just go to sleep when you wanted to and I'll have Caitlen let me out."

How on earth could he explain _now_ that he had been avoiding her because he found her so damn sexy?

She got the popcorn out of the microwave, set the DVD up, and jumped in his lap. "Hey!" he protested. The last thing he needed was her body so close to his.

"What? I used to always sit on your lap."

He let her sit on his lap rather than hurt her feelings. He figured he could concentrate on the movie rather than on how good and sexy she felt in his arms.

He had forgotten the exact contents of the movie. Not only that, but Gabrielle liked to jump up and down excitedly whenever anything scandalous happened. And when she took a swig of beer, she pushed herself against him until her ass ground against his crotch. When the infamous pool scene with Denise Richards and Neve Campbell came in, Jack knew he needed to get her off him before he embarrassed himself. "Gabs, get off," he urged.

"Huh?" She was transfixed by the movie, dreadful though it was.

"I need you to get off me."

"OK, give me a tic," she said, tilting her head back to down the last of her beer. May as well get another while she was up. In doing so, she pushed her ass right up against him and the sensation was exquisite – and disastrous. He reacted immediately. He could feel his pants tighten uncomfortably and knew she must have felt it. He pushed her off him roughly. So roughly that Gabrielle was too stunned to realise why he had done it, thinking that he had just shoved her off his lap without warning, almost causing her to fall on the ground. "Jack!" she yelled indignantly. She saw him bolt to the bar fridge he had installed, pull out an icepack and hold it against his crotch. The effect of the freezing icepack against his erection, which felt like it was on fire, he was that tightly wound, made him cry out but he didn't pull back.

Gabrielle realised what had happened and she was horrified and embarrassed. Jack had gotten an erection from having her sitting in his lap. Too late, she recalled him saying that he missed sex more than he'd thought he would. While he wasn't above 'cheating' on Deanna – not that he considered it a real marriage to cheat in – he didn't think it was fair _not_ to disclose his marriage to any potential one-night stand, and he doubted there were many women out there who would sleep with him knowing he was married. _He _certainly wouldn't like to find out later that his one-nighter had been married; neither would he go ahead with it knowing they were married, and he felt he owed the same consideration to anyone he met in a bar. So the effect was that he hadn't had sex in over a year, was effectively living the life of a priest – and she had plonked herself down on his lap like she was his girlfriend or something. "Jack, I'm sorry," she said. "I thought – I mean, I didn't think –"

"Damn straight you didn't think!" Jack yelled at her. He hadn't meant to be so angry, but his whole body ached with desire and he was embarrassed that she should see him like this – only his knees, caught out lusting after her. "You know I haven't gotten laid in over a year, but you still come over with your sexy movie and sit on my lap and wriggle your ass – how exactly did you _think_ I was going to react? I'm not a fucking saint."

He was screaming at her, but she felt so deeply for him that it went straight over her. "I'm sorry," she said again. She touched his shoulder, thinking he was shaking because he was crying.

"Get out!" he yelled at her when he felt her fingers curl over her shoulder. His erection was stubbornly refusing to go away despite the icepack that was just about to give him hypothermia – maybe he'd just lose it to frostbite, at least that would solve the problem – and having her so close to him made him all the more aware how sexy he found her. He felt engulfed by that damn perfume she wore and found himself thinking about what it would smell like when combined with sweat – and lust.

"Jack – " She could hear the desire in his voice, knew he wanted her to leave for her own good – but couldn't just leave him like this.

"Unless you actually _want_ me to rip your clothes off and fuck your brains out bent over the table, then _get out!_" he screamed again, shaking off her hand. This time, Gabrielle did as she was told, not stopping to gather any of the things she had brought with her. She raced past a confused and concerned Caitlen, who had heard Jack yell at her to get out but knew nothing else, got in her car and got home as quickly as she could.

Once home, she went over the last few weeks and wondered if Jack had been avoiding her for that reason. She didn't, as Jack had thought she would, feel violated that he'd been developing feelings for her. Rather, she felt deep pity for him that he was becoming more and more tightly wound, and that his only outlet was his body reacting against his will. It wasn't fair.

On Monday, Jack approached her in her office. "I'm sorry about the other night," he said contritely. "I let things get out of hand. I shouldn't have let you sit on my lap. I should have told you what was going on in my head."

She stood up and went to embrace him, but he pulled away. "I'm not angry with you, Jack, if that's what you're worried about," she said. "I understand. It's natural."

"Doesn't feel very bloody natural," he said. "It feels like I'm objectifying my best friend."

She looked at him quizzically. "Something else has happened?"

He squirmed, but she looked at him so forcefully that he didn't dare lie to her. "I've been having dreams," he admitted. "Really, really... erotic dreams," he clarified when she looked at him blankly.

"Oh."

"Gabs, I'm so sorry. If I could stop, I would. I hate myself for it. You're one of the best things in my life and I've repaid you by treating you like some porn fantasy."

That was clear from the tone in his voice. Suddenly, she couldn't be angry with her – or feel violated by him. Suddenly all she could remember was how much of a gentleman he had always been with her, regardless of how hard it was to deal with the abstinence that had been forced onto him. "I understand, Jack," she said. She reached out to touch his face, and this time, he didn't pull away. He rested his cheek against her hand and closed his eyes. For a second, a vision of serenity passed over his face, as if just be understanding and not judgement she had managed to bring some peace into his life.

"I'm lonely all the time," he admitted. "I knew what I was giving up when I married her, but I didn't realise how hard it would be. I didn't realise how lonely it would be to go home to someone you hate. It's not even sex I miss so much as the intimacy – cuddling up to someone in the middle of the night." He didn't add that he'd had such dreams about her too, wonderful dreams where they were happily married and Ella was theirs – only to wake up and be all the more aware at how empty his marriage was.

"Oh, Jack."

"All I ever wanted, apart from being a doctor, was to marry someone I loved, to feel wanted, to be with someone who appreciated everything I had to offer... and now I can't offer anyone anything."

"That's not true, Jack. You're sweet and loyal and believe so strongly in fidelity – no woman would ever feel insecure with you."

Jack laughed bitterly. "And what good does that do me when I'm _married_?" he asked. He raked his hand through his hair. "I'm sorry, I'm taking it out on you when I actually came to apologise."

"You don't need to apologise, Jack. You know I of all people know what you're going through."

"Well, thanks for listening, at least... and understanding." Despite himself, he leaned over the kiss her forehead and struggled to pull away when what he really wanted to do was kiss her. He spun around quickly and rushed out before he did anything he would regret.

Gabrielle watched him go., It wasn't until she brought her hands to her face to wipe away her tears that she realised she was crying for him.

* * *

_He was wearing those jeans and that pale-blue button-down shirt she liked so much; they just seemed to compliment his figure so much. His hair was still wet from the shower, and she'd just known he'd look super-cute with wet, spiky shower hair. She reached out and twisted a lock through her fingers. It was clean and smelled nice, like the rest of him. She trailed her fingers along his face, tracing his cheekbones, jaw, the lines of his neck down to his collarbone... smiling impishly at him, she pulled gently at the top button and it came apart as easily as if she were simply pulling the material apart. She placed both her hands under his shirt and moved them down his chest. The shirt came apart easily until he was standing in front of her, topless._

_He grabbed her hips and lifted her up so she could wrap her legs around his waist. They kissed deeply, and he moved his arm up inside her shirt. She wasn't wearing a bra, and his hand easily found its way to her front, feeling her breasts, stroking her nipples... She arched her back and gave a gasp of delight. This was exactly how she had imagined it. "Jack!" she gasped. Her tone said everything that needed to be said. Her legs still wrapped around his waist. He carried her to her room..._

Gabrielle woke up, disoriented. When she realised where she was and what she had been dreaming about, she blushed so deeply she could feel her face go warm in the dark. No wonder Jack had been so flustered about admitting his attraction for her; the dream had been so realistic, so erotic – she could still smell him, taste him, feel him.

_Where the hell did that come from_? She asked herself. _It was only that Jack was talking about it today. If he hadn't put the idea in my head_... Still, it was hard to justify that it was _Jack_ who had put the thought of his smell, his feel, his taste in her head, all sensations that she had never consciously processed before... but she must have done it on _some_ level, because now that she thought about it, that was _exactly_ how Jack was. Well, apart from taste. The closest they had ever gotten to kissing – apart from dreams – had been the first night they had met, at Cougars.

_It doesn't mean anything. It's just a reaction to what he told me_. _Of course I'm going to find someone a little attractive after that. Being found attractive is an attraction within itself_. That made sense, and she was pleased with her logic.

She got out of bed and ran a shower, brushing her teeth and soaping herself thoroughly as to obliterate any imaginary scent. When she was done, she stripped and remade the bed and went back to sleep, trying to convince herself that if Jack hadn't brought it up, she would never have thought of it for herself...

* * *

Jack pulled into the driveway and when he spotted the all-too-familiar car, his heart felt like someone had tied it to a brick. Then dropped it into a deep lake. He would recognise that car anywhere, he would recognise it in his nightmares. Patrick had had a certain penchant for nightly drives to spectacular views where he could enjoy both view and blow job.

He wondered how Patrick had managed to get his address. It wasn't in the white pages, wasn't even on the electoral role. He scowled, knowing exactly where Patrick had gotten the address from. Everyone knew restraining orders weren't worth the paper they were written on. _He has a right to know where he can't go so he can avoid you_, his lawyer had pointed out. You couldn't exactly cry foul over a violated restraining order when the person didn't know which neighbourhoods they weren't allowed to visit. All good in theory, but it made the perpetrator's ability to locate their victims that much easier.

His initial horror for his own experience faded almost instantly in wake of thought that _Patrick was in his home with nothing between him and Ella but a waifish teenager_. Without bothering to lock the door behind him, he bolted out of the car and into the house with speed that would have made a sprinter jealous.

In the downstairs entertaining area, Patrick and Caitlen were calmly chatting about the weather, as if Patrick were Caitlen's own father. But then, Patrick had always had a knack for ingratiating himself as a father-figure, although Jack would be surprised if he had ever tried so hard with someone like Caitlen. She was several years too old and the wrong sex. Jack's blood went cold when he saw Patrick holding Ella like – like some goddamn grandfather.

Patrick saw him and smiled warmly as if he were thirteen again and was being met by the teenage boy who adored him. "Jack," he said, voice just as warm. "Imagine my surprise when I come to pay a visit on an old friend and find he has a little girl. Why, she's barely younger than you were when I first met you." Not entirely true; Jack had been five when Patrick had moved into the neighbourhood, no doubt on the run from some other neighbourhood where he'd ruined the lives of other teenage boys. Jack had no doubt the comment was meant as a calculated reminder that Jack had once been as young and innocent as Ella once was.

Jack was instantly as baited as a mama bear when one of her cubs is threatened. He clenched his fists at his sides. He would happily deck the man here and now if he wasn't holding Ella. Instead, he strode over the Patrick and yanked Ella from his arms, for once unconcerned about his daughter's care. Ella immediately began screaming. There was no doubt Patrick knew how to handle babies – it was one of the many talents he had developed to lull his victims into a sense of security – and Ella resented being snatched from such comfortable arms, even when it was her father doing the snatching. "Get the fuck out of my house!" he screamed. Ella screamed louder.

"Jack!" Caitlen protested, incredulous to see her boss, a man she respected so much for his devotion to his daughter and his remarkable tolerance for a wife any other man would have killed and buried by now, being rough and abusive to such a polite man who had entertained her with stories of Jack as a kid. How adventurous he was, always wanting to explore. How smart, winning academic prize and scholarship by the dozen. Patrick seed like he really cared about Jack, had been as hurt as Jack's own family when Jack had chosen to bolt from his working class roots. He had made an effort to track down the boy he had considered to be a son to him, and Jack was being abusive.

Jack shoved Ella in Caitlen's direction. "Take care of her," he directed gruffly, "while I escort our _guest_ out. Unless he'd rather have the police called?" Jack got a small sense of satisfaction when Patrick looked intimated by that threat; no doubt when men facing charges of paedophilia showed up to their victims homes after being issued restraining orders, it didn't look that good to the police. Jack made a mental note to call them later. Caitlen, for all her stupidity in letting a perfect stranger into the house – and let them handle Ella! – would make an excellent witness.

Patrick walked out, Jack following behind him to make sure he went. "She's a beautiful girl, Jack," Patrick simpered. "You must be proud."

"What do you want?"

"I was so hurt, Jack, when I heard what you said about me. All the time we spent together..."

"All the times you _raped_ me, you mean?" Jack corrected bitterly. He wondered if Patrick truly believed what he was saying about his fondness for Jack and his hurt of Jack's 'abandonment', or it was just something he was saying to rattle Jack.

"Don't be like that. You know you wanted it. All those times you used to come over in your swimmers, begging to use my pool... all the times you loved staying over and watching videos... all the times you used to come to me with you A-projects, wanting to be hugged and petted. I felt so sorry for you, you weren't getting any love or affection at home and you wanted it desperately from me."

Jack stared at Patrick with cold hate. Did he truly believe what he was saying? Did he truly believe that a neglected child, starved of love and affection, had been so desperate for it that he'd wanted to be _raped_? Did Patrick truly believe Jack had _enjoyed_ it? Maybe he did – you had to be an even bigger monster than just a run-of-the-mill paedophile to not only do what you did but _know_ you were hurting them and _enjoy_ it.

"... You've got a beautiful girl," Patrick repeated in a voice that made Jack's voice run cold. "Bit too young for my tastes, of course, but she'll be a beauty, just like her aunt." It made Jack sick that Patrick had continued his obsession with him to finding about his family. "There's anyways going to be men interested in her."

Jack resisted the urge to smash Patrick's nose. Better to remain as calm as she could. "You're mistaken in thinking I'm like my dad, Patrick, and I won't do anything when someone hurts my child. You think I'm angry now? You come near Ella again, and I will _hunt you down and make you wish you'd never lived_." Jack took no small degree of pleasure at the look of fear in Patrick's eyes. Good to know that the bastard could know what it felt to be afraid, at least for a few seconds.

Jack stormed back into the house and locked the door behind him. By that time, Caitlen had Ella settled. "Jack, what was that about?" she asked. "You were _rude_." She had never seen him be rude, except to Deanna, who always deserved it, other than the time he had snapped at her when she'd asked him how he was doing. It was so out of character for Jack that she actually felt herself losing a little respect for him.

Jack turned his anger from Patrick to Caitlen. "You _ever_ let someone into the house that I haven't _personally_ introduced to you and OK'ed, I will ship you back to whatever ignorant hick town you came from without whatever pay I owe you, let alone a reference, do you understand me?" he asked. Caitlen stared at him in dumb fright. "_Do you understand me_?" Caitlen nodded, and Jack pushed past her, picked Ella as gently as he could manage up from her downstairs rocker (he had long since learnt that it was easier to have two of many things that keep hauling them up and down the stairs) and took her up to his room. Once there, he placed her in her upstairs rocker where he could watch her, and he curled up into the foetal position on his bed and sobbed, both from the grief of his own lost innocence and terror that someone might do the same thing to Ella.

After a while – Jack lost track of time – Gabrielle's voice came from the adjoining room. "Jack? It's just me? Caitlen called me, she's terrified."

Jack immediately felt guilty. He had taken his anger out on Caitlen when it was Patrick who deserved the full force of it. "I'll apologise later," he said stiffly.

She let herself into his room without asking his permission. There was a heavy cloud in the room of sadness – no sadness wasn't the right word, it was too shallow. She remembered when her mum had died; it was the same cloud that engulfed this room. Raw, raging _grief_. Impotant anger at an unfair situation. Had something happened with Deanna? But Caitlen had just said a man had come over, a man who had known so much about Jack's childhood that she figured he _had_ to be an old friend. And when Jack had come home, he had gone berserk, first at Patrick, then at her. _He threatened to fire me without a reference_, Caitlen had sobbed. Actually, she had been just about ready to light out anyway. Gabrielle had promised that if Jack hadn't calmed down by the time she left, Caitlen could spend the night with her.

She sat down on the bed and touched his arm gently. He didn't flinch, which she took to be a sign of passive acceptance. She scooted over and lifted his head so she could cradle it in her lap, which he didn't object to. "You want to talk?" she asked softly. This was a far cry from the violent, raging Jack that Caitlen had described. Gabrielle had seen that Jack the day Deanna had come home after drugging Ella. She knew Jack was capable of violence, even murder, if someone threatened Ella. Jack shook his head against her lap, but she pressed on undeterred. "Caitlen said he said he was a family friend."

"He wasn't."

"She said he knew things about you growing up."

"He lived in my neighbourhood, moved when I was about five," Jack said in a flat, dead voice that made Gabrielle once again think about when her mother had died. Had she herself sounded this flat and dead? "He was – still is, I assume – a paedophile."

The word took the breath out of Gabrielle's lungs for a few seconds. _Paedophile_. Widgee had been a small enough town and she had been lucky enough that she had never personally come across a victim until she'd moved to Sydney, and her first experience had been a sickening one. The extent to which their small bodies could be ripped apart – She swallowed hard. "How do you – " she began to ask the stupid question, then checked herself. The most obvious reason Jack would know was because he had been one of the man's victims. "How young were you?" she asked.

"Thirteen." His voice was a whisper.

"How long – ?"

"Two years," he said in an even more strained whisper.

"Oh, Jack." She thought about how skittish he had been lately, how snappy. She wondered how much of it was to do with this guy. He couldn't have just appeared from nowhere, could he? Not after all this time, not when Jack was so anal about his privacy. Slowly, in a disjointed story that went back and forth over the two years that Patrick had sexually abused him and the time between the last assault and now, Jack told her what had happened to him. No wonder he had become so withdrawn of late; he was reliving his painful past.

"And when I came home and saw him holding Ella – and that comment he made – I wanted to kill him. I think I would have if I could have gotten away with it."

She shivered at the honesty of his admission, but at the same time, even without being a parent, she understood exactly what Jack was saying. If she were Jack, and someone had threatened _her_ little girl... "I'm so sorry. But no-one's going to hurt her. I know you, Jack. You're an amazing father. You're not going to let them. And after the fright you gave Caitlen, I doubt she'd let my _brother_ in the house, let alone someone she doesn't recognise."

Jack started to cry again at the memory of Patrick wrangling his way into the house by telling cute stories about Jack as a child and lulling Caitlen into a false sense of security in the same way he had lulled Jack all those years ago. It didn't matter than Caitlen would never let him in again – and since Deanna was never in the house with Ella without either Caitlen or Jack, that wouldn't present a problem – only that Patrick _had_ been in the house, _had_ held Ella like some doting grandfather. And the worst thing was, he had no-one who's arms he could crawl into, no-one who could ease his grief and loneliness. Deanna, he was sure, would only use the fact he'd been sexually abused against him. The courts tended to not grant custody to parents who had been sexually abused when they had a parents without such baggage they could give custody to. In her own way, Deanna could be just as predatory as Patrick. Certainly, both had done their damndest to destroy his life. At least Danna had given him Ella.

"You have no idea how lonely it is to be married to someone you hate," Jack sobbed. "I can't talk to anyone. I've got no-one."

She wriggled out of her position and gently straightened him out so she was lying on her side, facing him. She stroked his hair and traced her fingers along his face, staring deep into his eyes, made bright green from his crying. The intimacy between them was palpable, and she could no more pull away from it than she could pull two strong magnets from each other. "That's not true," she said softly. "You've got me."

Neither knew who started it, but in a moment they were kissing. Her fingers on his face snaked around to the back of his head, twisting his hair between her fingers, tugging at it, running down his neck. He thrust his tongue into her mouth and she met it eagerly with her own, kissing him back just as hard and just as deeply despite her inexperience with men. Experience didn't matter right now; being as close to him as she could be. And even when he pulled her tightly against him, his arm wrapped around her back, and tangled his legs through hers, they weren't close enough. It was the moment that had been building up since the first time they had met; since she had touched him innocently and felt sparks; since he had played with her hands and looked into her eyes, only to have Deanna standing meters away; since he had fallen asleep in her arms following his wedding ceremony; since they had eased into a close friendship where they were perfectly in sync; where the chemistry grew every time they spent time together, despite them both knowing that things couldn't be.

Well, they could be. And they _were_ being. In a kiss, all resistance crumbled, and neither was willing to stop.

With the deceptive strength that his body possessed, Jack flipped them so she was lying on her back and he was on top of her. He positioned the bulk of his weight on his knees on either side of her, although his chest was still pushed right up against hers. He kissed her hungrily, pushing her head into the mattress. He felt her hands go from his neck down his back and under his shirt. He tensed up slightly, even now, when he felt her fingers brush over the scars along his back – souvenirs from his vicious step-mother. Almost every woman he'd been with had reacted by at least flinching when they first felt them – even Terri had, although she'd had the class to get over it quickly. Except Deanna, and he had long learnt that Deanna did a lot of things to look good and not because she truly felt for them.

Gabrielle lay her palms flat against the small of his back, pushing down, pushing him against her. She'd always tell him later that it was the most convenient way to get him to move against her – whether or not that was true, he loved her for it. She marvelled at just how built-up he was. She appreciated now that his obsession for keeping in shape came out of wanting to know he could hold his own in a fight (actually, she was pretty sure he could kick the ass of pretty much anyone who wasn't a professional body-builder) but that didn't detract from just how good his body was. She moved her hands up his back and looped her hands under his shoulders. She could taste the saltiness from his tears and it gave the moment an even greater intimacy; his need for her became even more paramount. "Gabby," he breathed huskily. He buried his face in the side of her neck, inhaling everything that was her. He'd thought his dreams had been vivid, but he had never expected it to feel like this. His sense of smell, taste and touch went into overload. Any thoughts about how this could never work flew out the window as he trailed kisses along her neck, pulling the stretchy material of her t-shirt down so he could access as much skin as possible. "Gabby," he said again. There was no need to say what he wanted from her – what they wanted from each other.

She could feel his erection against her thigh. She wedged her hand between their bodies – no mean feat – and snaked it down his front shamelessly. If it was any other place or time, she'd be horrified with her wantonness. Something in the back of her mind told her that her _mother _ would be ashamed of her. She didn't care. All that mattered was being with Jack. She felt as if she was in some wonderful dreamlike state where it didn't matter what she was doing. She slipped her hand inside his pants and wrapped her fingers around his erection. He released a drawn-out groan and buried his face deeper against her skin, moaning her name again. "I love you..."

Ella stirred in her sleep and then began crying. Nothing else could have forced Jack back into the reality that made him so miserable. It was like flicking a switch – from wanton groping to sedate, concerned father. He jumped off her quickly and was by the crib in less than a second. He picked Ella up and cradled her gently, talking softly to her.

Feeling awkward, Gabrielle perched herself on the edge of the bed, waiting for Jack to say or do something. He couldn't just pretend it didn't happen. _He had told her he loved her_. In less-than-ideal circumstances, but he had still said it, and she didn't take Jack as the type to say such a thing solely in the heat of the moment.

"You should go," he said quietly, his back facing her.

"Jack –"

"I'm fine. You can tell Caitlen I lashed out when I was angry and she's perfectly safe."

"Jack, you just said you loved me!"

"I shouldn't have said it. I'm sorry."

"What, sorry for saying you loved me or sorry for feeling me up?" she asked angrily. She didn't know why it hurt so much. After all, her ex had cheated on her after telling her he loved her – why should she hold Jack to something he'd said in the heat of the moment? After he'd admitted to being sexually abused, no less.

"Both." There was a long pause where Jack didn't say anything and Gabrielle didn't move off the bed. _Please, look at me_, she begged. "Gabrielle, what do you think is going to happen here? I'm _married_."

"In name only." She found herself repeating Caitlen's words from not that long ago.

"That counts! I can't give you legal commitment or public acknowledgement. How are you going to feel when I can't hold your hand in public? How are you going to feel when Deanna pulls one of her I'm-married-to-a-surgeon stunts? How are you going to find feel when someone finds out and calls you a whore?"

Without realising it, they had both been thinking those questions for some time now. For Jack, it was Zoe who had made him think about it. When they had just been friends, Jack could defend their actions one-hundred percent, but... Zoe had a point. It wouldn't matter that _he_ was the married one which, in his opinion, made him more guilty; women always got shamed more. Jack remembered how people used to talk about the various nurses and junior interns that fell for Richard Craig; no-one ever accused _him_ of being a slut. No way could Jack put her through that.

For Gabrielle, it had been Caitlen. The girl was a hopeless romantic at times, but like any hopeless romantic, she often latched onto undeniable truths; when two people loved each other, they should be together. That Caitlen lived in a Romeo-and-Juliet world when it came to love made her argue that to the extreme, but still... at some point, her feelings for Jack had turned to love, and after their little make out session just then, she could deny how hot they were for each other.

"I don't care!" she said. She had never thought seriously about what she was proposing, let alone how she would feel about it, but as soon as the words were out of her mouth, they rang true. She must have thought about them subconsciously – like she had thought about her attraction to him in her dream – because she knew, as if she had put hours and hours of thought into it, that this was what she wanted. Or, rather, not so much what she wanted, but what she was prepared to settle for, given the less-than-ideal circumstances.

"You will!" he said. He remembered how his dad had slept around constantly, how unhappy his step-mother had been... and the constant messages left on the answering machine that Jack sometimes intercepted, calls from women begging Ned to call them back. How many of them had been happy, at the time, to be involved with a married man? How many had seen their sense of self-worth destroyed bit by bit for loving a man who wasn't free to love them back?

"I can make my own choices, Jack."

"It's an uniformed choice," he said in such a condescending way that she wanted to slap him. "Gabs, I won't be like my father – and trust me, you don't want to end up like my mum. I can't give you want you want." Glancing down at Ella, he was brought abruptly back to the reality of his situation. "I want you to go home," he said.

"Jack – "

"Go." His voice couldn't have been colder than if he'd caught her cheating on him and was leaving her.

She left. "You don't have to worry about Jack. He was angry at Patrick, not you, and you were just unlucky enough to not know to not let him in," she told Caitlen in as steady a voice as she could manage. "Just... leave him to be with Ella for a while, OK? It's what makes him happy." She gave Caitlen her best me-NUM-you-subordinate stare that worked so well for making Dan and Erica fall into line, and it worked well enough to stop Caitlen from asking any question. She let herself out and drove home before bursting into tears.

* * *

"Jack, Gabrielle's here to see you," Mike told him the next day.

"She says she's not leaving until you hear her out, even if she has to stand outside the door and yell," Mike said. He wondered what had happened between them now. It would be as good as a soap opera, if it wasn't undermining his surgeon's professional ability. "You can use my office."

Jack sighed. "Fine," he said, heading into Mike's office. Gabrielle was already waiting there, and when she saw him, she raced into his arms and kissed him. For a second, his resolve buckled and he kissed her back before pushing her away.

"Last time I checked," he said, his voice dripping with all the sarcasm he could muster, "to be a NUM you needed to be an RN, to be an RN you needed to go to uni and to go to uni you needed some degree of intelligence. So why are you here? What part of 'go away' do you not understand?"

She flinched at the harshness of his words, and he regretted them for a second. But Gabrielle was a fool of a kind that intelligence had nothing to do with if she was seriously considering something between them. He had nothing to give her – nothing but heartache and a bad reputation. "Jack, you can't be serious. You can't just kiss me and tell me you love me and then have nothing to do with me."

"I shouldn't have said it – I shouldn't have done it."

"Well, you did."

She went to kiss him again, but this time, anticipating her move, he held his arms out and pushed her away. "I like it here," he told her quietly. "Please don't make me put in for a transfer."

She met his eyes and realised he was serious – about not being with her, about willing to transfer to another hospital to steer clear of her if she didn't respect that. The look in his eyes frightened her. It was resigned, dead. She may as well be arguing with a headstone. "Fine," she said with as much dignity as she could muster. "I won't bother you again."

When she pushed past him he wanted to take her in his arms and smother her with kisses and give her what she wanted – what they both wanted. He clenched his fists by his sides in impotent fury at the unfairness of the situation. He loved her, wanted more than anything to be with her, to be a family with her and Ella... but all he could offer her was the same role his mother had played. And he couldn't do that to her. He couldn't become a man like his father.

A few days later, Jack groaned when he drove his car up and recognised yet another car from his past. He didn't need to wonder where his father had gotten his address from. Patrick would have given it to him.

He wondered if Ned and Patrick were still drinking buddies. He wondered if Patrick had ever felt any guilt over spending Friday nights at the pub with Ned and Saturdays raping his son. He wondered how you did that to a person's kid and look them in the eyes

Ned was waiting outside for him. Jack grinned to himself when he realised Caitlen had refused to let him in. _Good girl_, he thought approvingly. He'd get her something nice, a good bottle of wine, maybe. That she wouldn't be able to open until her eighteenth birthday."You fucking that twit?" Ned asked crossly. "She wouldn't let me in."

"That _twit_ is my nanny, and I instructed her not to let anyone in that I hadn't introduced her to. And no, I'm not sleeping with her. Some of us have more sense than to sleep with the help." His sex education had come early, in the form of realising his dad was having it off with his baby-sitter. When he was younger, Ned had been a good looking man, and very charming. That he was married was rarely an obstacle to getting laid. But years of smoking, drinking, poor diet and no exercise, not to mention bitter resentment that life hadn't turned out the way he'd wanted, had methodically and ruthlessly chewed into his looks and charm. He looked like what he was, a bitter man closer to retirement age than middle age.

Ned snorted in laughter. "Some of us have better sense that to hire teenage knockouts to take care of their kids."

_You sure didn't_, Jack refrained from saying. "Is there something you want, dad?" he asked as politely as he could.

"Yeah. I'd like to see my granddaughter. Imagine my surprise when my old buddy Patrick Wesley drops by to congratulate me on my first grand-child. Naturally, this is the first I've heard of anything, since your brothers certainly don't plan on settling down anytime soon."

_Didn't stop you from sending your seed out into the world_. Jack literally bit down on his tongue to stop the reply from bursting forth. "Sorry, I've been busy. I'm a surgical registrar now. That's about halfway about the food-chain. After registrar comes – never mind." Ned Quade was a man who prided himself on his ignorance, and if Jack tried to explain where he got promoted to from here, it would be forgotten within a minute. Not for the first time, Jack wondered where he had gotten his intelligence from. Well, his mother had invested well, if this house represented anything.

Ned seemed to tap into his thoughts. "Nice house," he commented. "I used to help pay the rent on it."

"Try the mortgage," Jack replied. It was one snarky comment that he couldn't resist. He hoped it got back to Stella that all those years Ned had been contributing to his mistress's ownership of a lavish house in Bondi while they lived in a run-down place in the working suburbs.

Ned looked suitably grumpy at the thought that all those years, Carla's 'rent' payments had actually been mortgage repayments. _Conniving bitch_. If it wasn't for the fact that neither of his other two sons had children and didn't look like they would anytime soon – "Patrick says her name is Eleanor," Ned said. "I would have thought you'd name my first grand-daughter after my mother. Or is it from _her_ side?"

_Her_, Jack knew, meant his mother Carla. "It came from a book I like." _Which you might have thought of had you ever realised that, unlike my brothers, I did actually read for pleasure_. And was he serious about name Ella after his grand-mother? The woman had hated him, and the feeling had been mutual. "But if it makes you feel better, her middle name's Rebecca, after mum's other kid."

"Can I see her?" Ned finally asked, realising Jack wasn't going to offer.

Jack shrugged as if it was of supreme indifference to him whether or not his dad saw her. In truth, he felt a knot in his stomach over it. Ever since this Patrick Wesley thing had come up again, he'd been feeling ill-at-ease and deep in his gut, he'd known his father would pop up at some point – especially after Patrick had tracked him down. He wondered what Patrick had said about him? _Jack's doing well, he's got a beautiful baby girl and a great career, really got it together given I sexually abused him for two years after you and your wife were done physically and verbally abusing him_. Jack wanted to tell his father where to stick it but something stopped him. Ned had never been abusive, just chronically negligent, and Jack didn't have the heart to turn him away without at least seeing his only grandchild. And maybe he _should_ have let Ned know about Ella's birth.

"Hey, Cait, this is my dad, Ned," Jack introduced Caitlen to Ned when he showed his father into the house – a house Ned was quite familiar with, Jack thought sardonically.

Caitlen looked sheepish. "Sorry," she said. "But after last time –"

"No, it's fine. If I'd known he was coming, I would have given you a heads up."

Ned stepped closer to inspect the girl Jack had hired as his nanny. He wondered where Jack had found such a beautiful young creature and if she was even over sixteen. He remembered his wife had been a beauty in her youth, but nothing like this. "Hello," he said, holding out his hand. Caitlen took it.

Jack winced when he saw the way his father's eyed gleaned as he took Caitlen in. He was older enough to be her grandfather – a _young_ grandfather, but a grandfather nonetheless. Would he never get a clue? "Cait, why don't you grab a coffee or something? I know you're always complaining that I'm never home to take care of Ella myself." Which wasn't true, he worked around Caitlen's desire for free time as much as he could, but Caitlen was eager to get away from this creepy old man – he was older than her dad, and that was _old_ – so she took Jack's offer without needing to be told twice.

"She's beautiful," Ned acknowledged, almost reluctantly. "She's going to look like your mother."

Jack shrugged. "I only knew her a few months before she died –"

"Carla's dead?"

It didn't surprise Jack that Ned had had no idea Carla Rowe had died several years ago. He wasn't the type to keep up with his flings once he was done with them. "Two years ago. Cancer," Jack said simply. "I didn't know her when she was younger, or even in good health, but I've been told Bec looks so much like her when she was the same age –"

"Who's Bec?"

"Bec's her other kid. Rebecca. My half sister. Anyway, I've been told she looks like mum did at her age and I think Ella will look a lot like her."

"And your wife? Patrick says she's a blond, too."

It sickened Jack that Patrick had charmed Caitlen into details about Deanna. Or maybe he'd just looked Jack up in the registry of births, deaths and marriages, and looked up Deanna from there. "Deanna and I aren't very close," he said. Like hell was he confiding in his father about the state of his marriage.

Ned laughed at that. "Sounds like your step-mother and I."

_Yeah, except I'm sure there was a time when even you loved Stella_. "Dad, is there something you wanted?"

"I wanted to see my grand-daughter. Do you know how embarrassing it is, to hear from someone _else_ in the neighbourhood, not only that my son has a daughter of his own, but had her almost a _year_ ago?"

"You could have kept in touch, dad."

"I did. I tried calling the number you gave me but there was no answer," Ned said in a sullen way that made Jack think while he had given him both his mobile number and the landline to the duplex, Ned had only bothered to try calling them when he had heard of Ella's birth. That was hardly keeping in touch. "You've done well for yourself," Ned acknowledged grudgingly as he wandered through the house. Jack resisted the urge to stop him. He was still his father and besides, in a warped way, he _had_ paid for part of the house.

"I work hard."

"You were raised well." Jack barely managed to smother a derisive snort of laughter with a coughing fit. "We were all so hurt when you ran away."

"Dad, getting a scholarship and stipend to the best university in the country is not running away, it's taking advantage of an opportunity."

Ned actually managed to seem even more put out by this, as if it served as a reminder that his other two sons (at least, those of which he knew of) hadn't achieved such great academic heights; they were both labourers, like him. "You could have kept in touch."

Jack rubbed his temple. What was it with his dad that made him talk in circles? They were getting nowhere. "I didn't want to, OK," he said, with more bitterness than he'd intended, but what the hell, was he expected to be happy that not one, but _two_ reminders of his unhappy childhood had arrived on his doorstep in the past week?

"Why not?"

Jack finally snapped. Bad enough that his dad showed up here truly not comprehending what a lousy father he had been. But on top of Patrick showing up just days before? He'd had enough. "Patrick sexually abused me for two years," he blurted out. "That's why I have no interest in going back."

"What?"

Jack shouldn't have been surprised that Ned met his sudden declaration with confusion. But he had wanted his father to understand, to beg for forgiveness, to do _something_ fatherly for once. "He sexually abused me. Raped me on several occasions. Coerced me into – other things to – avoid it," Jack said painstakingly. It was a lot harder to tell his father than it had been to tell Gabrielle.

Ned looked at him blankly, and Jack's heart sank. "You don't believe me," he said flatly.

"No, I believe you," Ned said in a tone that made Jack shiver. He had once believed that the worst thing that could happen to him was Ned not believe what Patrick had done to him. But this – this was somehow much worse. Ned believed him... but somehow didn't care. "Everyone knew how promiscuous you were," Ned continued. "Everyone knew how much you craved sexual attention."

Anger rose in Jack so great that he could barely contain it. "Everyone knew how promiscuous Stella _thought_ I was," Jack corrected. He hadn't slept with a woman until he'd been sixteen, and he was sure he would have been older, had he been more innocent, more protected... less determined to prove that he was, in fact, straight.

"Then how come he never – er – showed interest in your brothers?"

Jack couldn't believe what he was hearing. Ned was making him sound like some idiot easily parted with his money to some huckster because he looked like an easy mark. "Maybe because they had parents who gave a shit about them – at least, they had a mother who would do something if she thought someone was hurting her boys." Because that was how men like Patrick worked. They kept someone under thumb for months, even years at a time, because they knew they had no-one to fight for them, no-one who would care were they to know what was happening.

"I did care about you!"

Instantly, it was like a curtain had been drawn away. Some part of Jack had always hero-worshipped his dad, at the same time recognising his flaws and not wanting to be like him... Jack realised he was nothing like his father. He wouldn't, as a start, have accepted responsibility for a child he'd had from an affair... only to neglect them, in every sense possible. And if he'd had a woman like Stella, who had once been beautiful, loving and loyal – he would have been loving and loyal back.

He would have been loving and loyal back if he'd had someone like Gabrielle as his wife. He may not have been able to forgive Gabrielle for having an affair, but he would have been man enough to see her set up for herself to take care of whatever child she had as a result because he wouldn't have been able to see the child suffer for her parent's sins. And if Gabrielle had brought her own children to the relationship – he would have loved them more as children of his own than as step-children.

And he realised now his father had never been such a man. And the idea of having such a man as a grandfather to his daughter made him shudder.

"I want you to leave," he said. "I don't want to see you."

"I have a right to see my grand-daughter!" Ned protested.

"And I had a right not to be raped when I was thirteen," Jack retorted. "We're even. Now, get out before I call the police."

Ned knew when to get going. After, Jack walked to the kitchen bench and clenched his fists on it, feeling the anger and resentment tremble through his body. Then he let himself relax, realising a few truths about himself.

As patiently as he could, he waited until Caitlen got home.

* * *

He was wearing that shirt and those jeans, and his hair was still damp from the shower. Her heart skipped a beat. Someone up there was playing a joke on her.

She opened the door wider and gestured for him to come in. She could see from his demeanour that he was nervous. "Did you want something?" she asked. Her throat was dry. God, he looked gorgeous. He had gone to great lengths to avoid her since they had kissed, but the red-hot chemistry between them was undimmed. If anything, it was even more palpable.

"I'm not like my father," he blurted out. "I wouldn't cheat on you and I wouldn't take you for granted. I can't – I can't give you everything you deserve but I can be faithful and loyal and love you. I do – I do love you."

She gasped at his words. "Jack, what are you trying to say?" she asked.

"What I'm trying to say is – I mean, if you'll still have me – I can't acknowledge you publicly but you know I'll never cheat on you and I'll do everything I can to give you want you deserve. I'll do everything in my power to make you happy, so long as it doesn't jeopardise my relationship with Ella. She has to come first."

"I wouldn't love you if that wasn't the case," she said softly. She eyed him hungrily, especially his lips. He smiled at her, nervous and hopeful, and she found it was even more attractive than his cocky, confident smile that he used on his patient. "Do you – do you want to kiss me?" she asked tentatively.

"Oh, God, yes," he blurted out, and rushed towards her. He pulled her tightly against him and mashed his mouth against hers. He kept one arm around her waist and the other around brought the other to the back of her neck. He pushed his tongue into her mouth and searched for hers. She met it eagerly and kissed him back with just as much hunger. "Are you sure about this?" he whispered huskily. Even now, he was determined not to make her life worse off over it. At least, not if it wasn't what she wanted as badly as he did.

"Yes," she said, more certain of this than she had been of anything else in her life. Nothing mattered but being with Jack. Her father wouldn't approve - it would break his heart to know she was involved with a married man, regardless of the circumstances – and their colleagues, people who knew about the details of Jack's marriage and sympathised with him, would nonetheless talk and judge. But none of that mattered when the alternative was _not_ being with Jack.

He picked her up easily and headed towards her bedroom. Some distant part of her mind registered that she had never actually _shown_ him where it was, apart from the brief tour she had given him when he had first come over after Deanna's announcement of her pregnancy, over a year ago now. She wondered if he had clung to that little detail the same way she had clung to little details about his life.

He carried her into her room and lay her down on the bed as gently as he could manage given how hot he was for her. He straddled her and started kissing her again. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him tightly against her, as tightly as her strength would allow, and he wasn't exactly complaining. He groaned when she moved one hand down his back and under his shirt. And suddenly he was very aware of the fact it had been over a year since he'd gotten laid.

Cheekily, Gabrielle moved against him so she could feel his erection against her thigh. "Evil woman," he grunted, knowing exactly what she had done. _Let's see how she likes it. _He moved his hand under her top and up her body. She wasn't wearing a bra and she bucked up against him when he stroked his fingers over a nipple. She dug her nails into his back, which only encouraged him. He pulled up her shirt over her breasts and began kissing her until he had her worked up and writhing underneath him. The sensation only helped to work him up even more. He felt his erection pressing against his jeans to a point it was painful. He couldn't remember being so horny – at leas, not since he'd been sixteen and eager to run amok in the world. And just like when he'd been sixteen and ready to run amok in the world, he knew he wasn't going to last long. Especially when Gabrielle had her thigh between his and – intentionally or not, Jack wasn't sure – was rubbing up against him.

"Oh, God," he whispered. He felt like he needed a release more than he needed to _breathe_. He fumbled with the button – why did these things always take so much longer when you needed them accomplished the fastest? – and yanked them down. He grabbed her hand and brought it down, his over hers, wrapping it around his member.

"Jack?" she whispered uncertainly. A quick hand job wasn't exactly what she'd had in mind.

"Just do it," he commanded. "Please," he added, softening his voice when he realised what a jerk he sounded like. He could sense her reluctance and knew this wasn't exactly what she'd had in mind, but also knew that she'd feel a whole lot worse if he had her quickly to satisfy a long-deprived hunger.

Gabrielle wasn't the most experienced woman in the world, but Jack didn't need her to be. Less than a minute and he was done. Eyes shut tight, lost in a world where nothing else mattered but the sensations below his waist, he cried out when he climaxed, coming long and hard. He rolled onto his back and, feeling ridiculous with his jeans pulled down to his thighs, zipped them up again. "Sorry," he aid contritely when he saw the look on her face. "I didn't want to make you feel like that. I just... needed it."

"I understand."

This was going to take some making up. He reached over and stroked her hair gently. "Now I can lavish attention on you without worrying about embarrassing myself," he said. "That is, if you still want it." Now that the immediate, desperate urge had passed, he was more in touch with the reality of the situation. If they did this, it was a line crossed that couldn't be uncrossed. He almost laughed out loud at that, and settled for an inward chuckle. As if a hand job wasn't already crossing that line.

"Of course I still want it, Jack. I just didn't expect it to be so..."

"All about satiating me?" Jack offered. Gabrielle looked a little guilty, caught out having her thoughts expressed so clearly. "It wasn't exactly how I thought about it, either," he admitted. He realised now how much of his subconscious thoughts had been about kissing her, making out with her, taking his time with her. His erotic dreams had merely been the most graphic manifestations of all his subconscious thoughts about her. He got on his side so he was looking down at her. "You're so beautiful, you know that." She looked away at the obvious lie, and he cupped her chin and pulled her face back towards him. "OK, I'm not about to lie and tell you that you could give Jennifer Hawkins a run for her money. But you have this thing – I knew it that first night we had drinks together, remember?" She nodded. "You have this sincerity and wholesomeness that's so insanely beautiful... you just glow... I always liked myself more when I was around you."

For a second, she stared at Jack. His words were so beautiful, and so sincere, she knew. She reached up to stroke his face. He was a tormented man, she knew... but to have endured all he had, and still have so much humanity in him. "You're the strongest person I know," she whispered, and she arched her back so she could reach up to kiss him.

Their lips met, and with the initial need gone, Jack found he could take his time, be gentler, explore her mouth and her body. Her skin and hair had a texture that he hadn't noticed before. And the way she whimpered when he kissed her. "Wear a button-down shirt next time," he directed her idly.

"Why?" she whispered, thrilled at both his touch and the alluded promise of 'next time'.

"Much more fun to undress you." In his mind, he could see her, each button undone one by one... but that was the future and this was now, and he didn't care _what_ she was wearing. He inched her top back up, baring a little more skin every second, a little more flesh for him to kiss. He was determined to cover every bit of her body.

When he reached her breasts and took one in her mouth, she bucked hard against him. "Jack!" she cried out. She grabbed the back of his head again, writhing uncontrollably underneath him, simultaneously not wanting him to stop and not sure if she could take the intensity of the pleasure. And he hadn't even started yet...

He kissed her face again, then removed her shirt and worked his way down again, back to her breasts, her stomach, abdomen... he yanked at the tie on her tracksuit pants and pulled them down her legs. He ran his hands up and down her legs, enjoying making her laugh when he tickled her – God, he was going to enjoy finding out all the nuances of her body – before his caresses became more intimate. Teasingly, he ran his fingers along the elastic of her panties until she was trembling. He could feel her through the material, damp, trembling. "Jack..."

He hooked his thumbs under her panties and pulled them down to join her shirt and pants on the floor. Now she was completely naked. He lavished kisses on her, not quite going for gold, until he needed to hold her down, she was writhing and bucking uncontrollably. He had her completely under his thumb, and was thoroughly enjoying himself. When he did move down between her legs, she moaned. Her hands went to his upper back, her nails digging in. For the next half hour, he brought her up, eased her down, brought her up again until she was completely, delightfully wrecked.

After he was finished, he scooted up the bed and lay next to her. "Need a break?" he asked with a grin.

She kissed him. What was it about Jack that she couldn't get enough of him? She'd never enjoyed sex like this before. But then, she'd never been with someone who was so turned on at giving women pleasure. "Not your life." She helped him out of his clothes and wasn't surprised that he was ready to go again. Jack struck her as someone who had a lot of stamina. "Go easy," she whispered when he was on top of her, ready to get inside her. "I'm not used to – ah – someone of your _size_..."

He laughed and kissed her. "That was why I didn't want to have you straight away," he admitted. He would never have forgiven himself if he'd hurt her going to quickly because he was too blinded by his own lust. He entered her slowly, and almost climaxed again when he got all the way inside her. She was so warm and wet and felt like she was made for him. "Oh, God." He was glad he'd thought to take care of things before; as it was, he didn't trust himself to last long.

He began thrusting, slowly at first, then faster when he saw he wasn't hurting her. She wrapped her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck and met him thrust for thrust with surprising agility. Shortly, they climaxed together, and he screamed as he did, feeling like it would never stop.

He rolled onto his back, his whole body shaking, his legs feeling like rubber. "Wow," was all he could say.

She cuddled up to him. "Sorry you held me at arm's length for so long?"

"Uh...yeah."

"Why'd you change your mind? Not that I'm complaining. But you seemed pretty set last time."

Jack told her about meeting his father. "I think the only reason he even came was because none of my brothers have children. God, the idea of him having an influence on Ella scares the crap out of me. It made me realise that I'm nothing like him. We both married 'cos they were pregnant but dad – I think he's just one of those men who believe it's a man's right to sleep around. And my mum was basically a professional mistress. She slept with anyone who funded the lifestyle she was used to." He couldn't help but laugh at the memory of his father having paid for part of what was now his house. At least he could say his son and grand-daughter were in a nice house in a nice neighbourhood thanks to his doing. "All this time I'd been hung up on the fact that sleeping with someone else made me as bad as him... but it's completely different. I love you, and you know there's no-one else, yeah?" Gabrielle nodded slightly. She was well aware Jack would rather walk barefoot over burning coals than so much as brush against Deanna. "And now you can say you're the exception to the cliché."

"Huh?"

"You're married lover really _doesn't_ sleep with his wife."

The joke was so crass that Gabrielle had to laugh. "Well, I'm glad you changed your mind," she said.

He kissed the top of her head as she settled into his arms. "You know we have to be really discreet, don't you?" he asked quietly, seriously – too serious for Gabrielle's liking. It was spoiling the moment, although she knew the words needed to be said.

"Yeah," she said in a quiet voice.

"If the wrong people find out about this – and that's so easy to do – that's it, Gabby. The same people who think it's such a shame a decent guy like me is trapped in a marriage with a bitch like Deanna will be lining up to call you a whore. These things can snowball so easily. I don't want to have people talk about you and I don't want... other stuff to happen to you." He remembered Charlotte venting to him (often just plain old _blaming_ him) when men aggressively hit on her following her and Jack's one-night stand being outed. Women, especially women who had touch-me-not reputations like Charlotte and Gabrielle did, could get themselves talked about so easily.

"I know."

"I'm not sure you do. Look, I've thought about this a lot. You really have to think about it before you tell anyone. You can't do or say anything at the hospital or Cougars or anywhere like that that might give us away."

"I understand. Do you – is there anyone you'd tell?"

"Bec, maybe. She hates Deanna and she's fond of you. Dan – probably not. He'd be too inclined to tell Ricki, and the two of them are the biggest gossips in the hospital. Charlotte – I don't know." He trusted Charlotte as far as keeping a secret went, but wasn't sure what she'd think of them being together.

"I trust Caitlen."

"Maybe, but how long d'you think before she lets something slip to your brother?"

Gabrielle grimaced. She hadn't thought of that. "My dad would kill me," she admitted quietly. "Or worse, he'd come down here and haul me back home."

"Still have no regrets?" Jack asked. His tone was light, but there was an undercurrent there.

"Of course not, Jack. Give me some credit. You say you've thought about this a lot, you think I haven't? You think I'm not well aware that I can't hold your hand in public or smile at you at the hospital and not have people talk? You think I haven't thought about the fact there will come a time when Deanna will pull her wife-and-mother act and I'll have to watch you like I'm just a colleague? That I hadn't made a connection between Cait and Ben doesn't mean I haven't thought about it."

"Sorry, I didn't mean to patronise you."

"It's OK."

"Hey." He brought her chin up so she was meeting his eyes. "It's our first night together. Don't be mad at me."

"I'm not mad at you." Especially not when he was kissing her like that... "Jack!" she cried when his fingers drifted down and found the spot he was looking for. "I have work tomorrow..." she protested weakly.

"And I haven't gotten laid in over a year," he retorted playfully. "My needs come before Frank's."

"I'm going to pretend I didn't hear you say that," she said as she submitted to his touch.


	6. Chapter 6

"If there's someone there, say it's the agency calling," Jack said when Gabrielle picked the phone up the next day.

Gabrielle smiled at the sweetness of his effort. "It's fine. I'm by myself."

"How are you feeling?" he asked.

"Tired. A bit sore," she admitted.

"Sorry," he said sheepishly. He'd given her quite a workout the night before. And most of the early hours of the morning, too. But once the dam had been broken, there was no stopping it.

"You didn't make me do anything I didn't want to do," she reminded him, blushing a little when she recalled their night together. She had known Jack would have stamina, had known he would be experienced, but he had surpassed her wildest fantasies, and then some."I was thinking maybe you might want to come over again tonight," she suggested shyly.

"You know I'd love to, but I promise Cait the night off, so I'm looking after Ella," Jack said, and she could hear the regret in his voice.

"Bring her with you," Gabrielle found herself suggesting.

"What?" he asked incredulously.

"Bring her with you. You know I'm fond of her."

"But... you don't think it would be a little strange?" he asked.

"Why, because I've taken Deanna's place in the bedroom, and now in the nursery?" she asked.

He chuckled at the blunt way she'd put it. "Well, yeah... something like that."

"Jack, if I worry about every little thing like that, I'd go crazy," she said. "If it feels weird to you –"

"It doesn't." It did, a little, but Gabrielle was right. If they worried about every little thing, they'd go crazy. "I'll be over around 6, OK?"

"Sounds good."

She had barely gotten home when there was a knock on the door. "Sorry," he said sheepishly. "But Ella likes her dinner by six-thirty."

Gabrielle smiled. Jack looked so cute, both in his apologising and in the fact that Ella's 'dinner', like her breakfast, lunch and snacks in between, consisted of formula. "Come in," she said. "I barely started, though, so dinner will be a while."

"Take your time, I'm good," he said. "Although I could do with a hand." He gestured behind him to the assortment of baby things; small plastic tub with a table that locked cunningly on top of it, not to mention a massive bag on top of the stroller Ella was currently dozing in. She helped him with Ella's things and he parked them in the living room. "Smells great," he said appreciatively. The only person who had cooked for him in the past two years had been Gabrielle, and it had been a lot time since the last time. "Roast?" She nodded. "You didn't need to go to that effort for me," he told her.

"I felt like it. And I like going to the effort," she said. It was strange. Here they were, having spent the previous night in bed, but today it was as if they were in the early stages of dating. And in a way they were. There wasn't exactly a guide-book as to the course of events for a relationship like this... for being a married man's mistress. She blanched slightly at the thought. Though she had accepted this was how things had to be if she wanted to be with Jack, it was still uncomfortable to look at things as they were honestly; _she was his mistress._

"What's up?" he asked, noting her disquieted expression immediately.

"Nothing."

"C'mon, Gabby. This isn't going to work if you don't tell me what you're feeling," he reminded her gently. Honesty was a lonely enough word when you were free to be in an honest and open – and _public_ – relationship. He wondered how many lies his father had told to his various lovers over the years. _I love you. My wife doesn't understand me. I'll leave my wife as soon as the kids are grown up. I don't sleep with my wife_. The kicker was that he really did love Gabrielle, Deanna really didn't understand him, he had every intention of leaving her once Ella was old enough to tell the courts who she wanted to live with, and he wouldn't touch Deanna with a ten-foot pole, let alone sleep with her.

Not that the theory mattered much in the face of reality.

"I just – I realised that I'm your mistress," she said. "And I _get_ that it's different for us, I'm not this silly tart who sleeps with men to get them to fund her lifestyle – sorry," she said, when she saw Jack flinch slightly at the description. It was an accurate enough one of Carla. "I always looked down on women like that – like, why couldn't they find their own man and fund their own lifestyles? I never thought I'd be in this position myself."

"Oh, babe. I'm sorry. I wish there was something I could do about it."

"I know." And that was part of what Gabrielle loved about him. He hated being in this situation as much, if not more, than she did. She was second in his love only to Ella, which was what tied him to Deanna. He would move heaven and earth if that what it took to have them both. But unfortunately, Deanna being Deanna, it wouldn't take so much heaven and earth as a hit-man.

Jack embraced her, and they kissed for a few minutes. "I can't believe how much I missed you in just one day," he admitted. "All I could think about was being with you again. When Cait reminded me I'd promised her the day off, I wanted to smack her."

"Did she say anything about where you were last night?" Gabrielle asked.

"She knows I was with you," Jack said, and Gabrielle looked disconcerted. "I figured it was best to be honest about _where_ I was, if not what I was doing. She already knows I spend a lot of time with you. I don't want her to get suspicious and started wondering why that's changed."

Gabrielle nodded. Jack had put a lot of thought into how their actions came across to other people. She was grateful, but it made her question how her own actions came across. She needed to be more discreet. She knew she had come to work, tired but obviously happy – so much so that people had commented on it, wondering if she'd had a date or discovered some wonder spa treatment. She had to follow Jack's lead and act as if nothing out-of-the-ordinary was happening between them. Which was far easier said than done, given she couldn't stop thinking about him.

She went back to preparing dinner – shooing Jack away when he tried to help – and watched him with Ella. He really had such a gift with children. She wondered if she and Jack would have any children of their own one day, and then chastised herself for the thought. Jack had been upfront about the fact he couldn't divorce Deanna until Ella was five or six – old enough for a family court judge to take her wishes into consideration.

As Gabrielle prepared dinner, Jack spent some quality time with her daughter, feeding, bathing and playing with her. By the time dinner was ready, they were on the floor together and Jack was tickling her, making her cry out with giggles. It was a heart-warming scene. "I think daddy needs his own dinner," Gabrielle claimed after a few seconds of watching them, reluctant to bring their play-time to an end.

Obediently, Jack bundled Ella up and placed her in her pram, spending a few more minutes gently stroking her as the baby went to sleep. He pulled down the top of her pram, some part of him reluctant to have her witness his evening with Gabrielle. He was almost reluctant to return to the couch where Gabrielle had laid out plates loaded with roast meat, potatoes, gravy and vegetables. "She's so beautiful," he said, glancing at her again. But even his adoration of his daughter didn't stop his stomach from demanding to be fed, and he dug into the food with gusto. "I should send Cait over for some lessons," he said. "She could do with learning how to make food like a country girl."

"My brother would love that," Gabrielle said ruefully. Like most men, he was a dab hand at fish and the barbecue, but considered everything else food-related to be women's work. Actually, the one thing she had never developed a talent for was fish; her father and Ben had forbidden it.

After dinner, Jack pulled Gabrielle into his hold. She straddled him. "Thanks for this," he said, kissing her. "You've no idea what this means to me."

She arched her back as he ran his hands down them. "Jack..." she murmured. She had intentionally worn a button down shirt, like he'd suggested, and she wanted him to notice it.

He did. When he'd come over, he'd registered that she was still in her uniform, but now he saw that she was wearing a button-down shirt with a skirt. He grinned at her. "Making it easy for me to undress you?" he asked.

"Something like that," she replied.

He ran his hands down further, grabbing her ass possessively on his way, down the back of her legs to the hem of her shirt. He kept his hands there for a few seconds, caressing the bare skin under the hem, before moving them up inside the skirt, up her bare legs, high and higher with enough tantalising slowness that by the time he had gotten back up to her ass, she was trembling. He squeezed her ass again and began kissing her passionately. She let her own hands wander the length of his back and arms, rubbing up against him as they kissed. "Gabrielle," he moaned. He slid his hands under the elastic of her panties and squeezed her bare ass. He wished he had more than two hands.

Reluctantly, he brought his hands up to her front, and with deliberate slowness began undoing the buttons to her shirt, kissing every bit of skin as it became exposed. Gabrielle shivered, understanding now what Jack had meant when he'd said it would be so much more fun to undress her this way. She was wearing a bra this time, and he planted kisses all over her breasts, through the material, until she was panting and straining to have it removed so she could feel Jack's kiss on her bare breasts. "Please," she begged.

He loved the way she sounded then, like he was the only man who had ever made her feel this way. Well, _she_ was the only woman who had ever made him feel this way, too, so why should he be surprised? They were made for each other. He reached behind her and unhooked her bra, pulling the material aside awkwardly because he didn't want to waste time getting her shirt off. He kissed her bare breasts, using his mouth and fingers to great affect. She dug her finger into the back of his neck as she pushed against him, trying, always, to get closer to him...

She pulled away slightly so she could create a space between their bodies and work on the buttons of _his_ shirt. She realised what he meant about it being more fun to undo a button at a time... especially since Jack took such care of his body. Now it was Jack's turn to writhe as she ran her mouth and fingers the length of his body. It was an interesting and pleasant new sensation to have him underneath her. Finally, she got to the last button and pulled the material completely apart. It fell limply to his sides. She kissed and stroked his bare skin, running her fingers provocatively along the waist of his jeans. His breathing became very shallow. She slid her hand down to his groin, and he groaned. She rubbed her hand against him and felt triumphant as she felt him harden under her touch. It was such a kick knowing she could make him feel like this.

Jack retaliated by bringing his hands back down her back and under her skirt. He pulled her panties down to her thighs and toyed with her for a few minutes until she was crying out for his touch. He silenced her with a kiss and slipped his fingers inside her. She was wet and warm and more than ready for him. She pushed herself against him, her bare breasts against his chest, and rocked against his body as he continued to finger her. He pushed her back slightly so he could return to kissing her breasts at the same time. He worked her into a frenzy until she was writhing uncontrollably against him until she climaxed, crying out his name as she did.

The entire time, her hand had been on his groin and now he was well and truly ready for her. "I think someone deserves to be pampered," she whispered huskily. She wriggled off Jack and sank to the floor. She slowly unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans, pulling them down his legs and discarding them on the floor. She positioned herself between his legs and lavished kisses over his thighs and groin, kissing him through his boxers, relishing the feel of his growing erection under her caresses. She was learning what all his noises meant, and that heavy breathing punctuated by whimpers was definitely a good thing. She pulled down his boxers so he was completely naked in front of her. She cupped his balls and massaged them, planting kisses the length of his erection. When he was well and truly worked up, begging for her to act, she took him in her mouth, slowly taking more of him in, inch by inch until she had taken him all the way down her throat. Jack watched, almost delirious with desire. There was something so sexy about watching a woman go down on you – especially the way Gabrielle was looking at him, shy and wanton at the same time. He sighed and sank into the couch as she began sucking him, working her way up and down his erection with surprising agility. It wasn't long before he was in a frenzy, thrusting into her with increasing urgency as he felt himself start to climax. He gripped her shoulders tightly and, lost in the moment, thrust hard into her mouth, arching his back as he came.

"Sorry," he said sheepishly when it was over. "I didn't mean to be so rough."

"I'm a country girl, I'm used to rough," she smiled. She went to kiss him but he turned his head away.

"Sorry," he said quietly. "The taste makes me throw up. I would if I could."

"It's OK. I didn't think." She got up to rinse her mouth out. Of course, Jack was going to have a lot of hang-ups when it came to sex. It wasn't just his noises that she would have to learn to identify.

A few seconds later, Jack joined her in the bathroom, hugging her from behind. "You're amazing," he said huskily. He'd never been with someone who was so cool about being rejected like that. It only made him want to be able to kiss her more, but realistically, he knew it was a hang-up that he'd never overcome. You didn't spend two years being coerced into blow-jobs and emerge from the experience with no hangups. He started kissing the back of her neck. And she smelled great, too. "I think I need to return the favour."

She shivered with anticipation when he scooped her into his arms and carried her to her bedroom. She'd never been with someone who seemed to enjoy giving pleasure more than receiving it. But then, she'd never known someone like Jack.

She didn't notice until he lay her out on the bed that he'd brought the baby monitor with him. It made her feel a little weird, to be having sex with him while his daughter was in the next room – hell, to have given him a blow job while she was only meters away in the _same_ room. She giggled at the thought of giving her a crash course in sex education.

Jack took his time completely undressing her so she lay naked in front of him. His eyes swept several times over her body, taking her in before he started to kiss and touch her, this time with more slowness than last night. He was no longer utterly starved for affection and intimacy, so he could take his time getting to know her body in detail. Across her face and neck, down her chest, kissing her breasts, sucking on her nipples until they were rock hard. When he got down to her torso, he teased her like he had the night before applying his considerable skills to her most private of places. _I could get hooked on this_, he thought as he sucked at her and applied pressure with his fingers in the most erotic of spots. She tasted so sweet, not to mention her passionate cries were driving him crazy with lust. He had only just come, but he could already feel his penis hardening. He could tell himself it was because he had been living the life of a monk for so long, but he knew it was Gabrielle. No other woman could make him feel like this – and none ever would, he knew.

He brought her to orgasm and pulled back slowly from his ministrations. He worked his way slowly up her body, kissing and caressing her in much the same way he had worked his way down earlier. When he got to her face, he kissed her and flipped onto his back. His erection was obvious. "Get on top of me," he directed.

She climbed on top of him, straddling him, poised just above him. He grabbed her hips and guided her onto him, shuddering when he got all the way inside her. She began riding him, and she looked insanely sexy on top of him. Her breasts bounced invitingly, and he placed his hands on the small of her back, pushing her forward so he could kiss them. He moved a hand down between her legs and began stroking her in such a way that she started to climax again. God, but he loved hearing her scream.

Afterwards, she cuddled up against him and he stroked her back. The sex itself was amazing, but there was something even more to be said about the afterglow when they lay in each other's arms, with no words being needed to be said.

"I was thinking," Gabrielle said drowsily after a period of silence. "I should get a crib for Ella so you don't have to haul everything over everytime you bring her here."

"And what are you going to say when people want to know why I spend so much time here that Ella has her own things?" Jack pointed out gently.

"I hadn't thought of that, she admitted.

"I did."

"I'm not good at thinking about stuff like that," she admitted.

"I don't think I'd love you if you _were_," Jack said. If she was someone who went into an adulterous relationship casually, he certainly wouldn't love her as much as he did. It was the very fact that she lacked the savvy to think of things like how it looked should she have a crib for Ella installed that made him love her. He stroked the contour of her breast casually. "Let's not talk about this. There are far more fun things to do."

"Jack, I'm tired," she protested.

"I'm not." Grinning wickedly, he climbed on top of her and started kissing her. He snaked his hand down the front of her body to between her legs. He knew exactly how to make her forget her tiredness. Gabrielle sighed with desire and spread her legs at his silent command. When it came to sex, she'd do everything Jack asked her.

* * *

"You look perky."

Mike's comment startled Jack out of his reverie. He was thinking about the previous night with Gabrielle, pumping away hard and fast on top of her, feeling her body buck and writhe underneath his. She was so hot, and she had this combination of inexperience and willingness to experiment that he found enchanting. He knew he was leaving himself open to be detected – to a least have Caitlen question where and how he spent all his free time these days – but it was hard to care when he thought about being with her. It wasn't even just about sex – it was about everything. She was everything he wanted in a partner, as friend, lover... and mother.

"Jack?" Mike questioned him. Jack looked guilty. "You up to something?"

"Like what?" Jack asked, trying to look innocent and failing miserably.

Mike looked at Jack so intently that he started to feel uncomfortable. Not only did Jack dislike having men look at him for longer than a few seconds, but he had the feeling his thoughts were written all over his face. "Something happen? You look like you've gotten several nights of decent sleep... or maybe not," he added. "What's going on between you and Gabrielle?"

"Nothing," Jack said, way too quickly and way too sharply.

"_Riiight_. Spill," Mike ordered, as authoritive as he might direct Jack to perform a procedure a certain way.

"I'm trying to protect her, Mike," Jack admitted, feeling guilty that it was obvious enough that Mike would pick up on it – even if Mike _had_ been paying particular attention to his behaviour in the last few months.

"So something _has_ happened?" Jack nodded slightly, and under Mike's prompted, brought Mike up-to-date with what had transpired between him and Gabrielle the last few days.

"I really tried," he finished. "I hate putting her in this position. But... I love her and I can't not be with her, not if she wants to be with me."

Mike nodded. He was understanding enough of the situation not to judge Jack for his actions. It was plain to everyone, even the most thoughtless and malicious of gossips, that there was a serious chemistry and camaraderie between Jack and Gabrielle – it was why there had been so much talk about them. He knew Jack truly loved her and wasn't about to treat her with the cavalier attitude most married men adopted towards their mistresses, and he knew Gabrielle was mature enough to make such a decision for herself – she was no ditzy girl easy infatuated by superficial charm. "People will find out," he reminded Jack firmly. "You really think people aren't going to notice how much happier you are? Or, for that matter, that you're not seen in public much anymore? It's a bit too late to do an about-face on _that_ one."

Jack squirmed at that. He knew Mike had a point. "I want to do the right thing by her," he said.

"Then divorce Deanna."

"I can't. She'll make sure the courts take Ella. I have to wait until she's old enough to tell the judge what she wants. Gabrielle knows that."

"And she's happy with that?"

"She understand." They both knew there was a world of difference between understanding something and being happy with it. Mike doubted Jack really knew the road he was heading down. He didn't doubt the intensity of their feelings for one another which had necessitated this arrangement, but he did doubt that either truly understood what they were getting themselves into.

* * *

"Frank, I'm worried about Jack and Gabrielle."

Frank looked at Zoe irritably. "What are you talking about? They hardly see anything of each other anymore."

"That's exactly what I'm worried about. This is Jack and Gabrielle we're talking about. When I told Jack they should back off, he told Gabrielle, and the two of them, being as stubborn as they are, decided to hell with giving into gossip. But as of a few weeks ago they've been hardly seen together in public at all."

Frank looked blank. He had budget worries, and Zoe was worried about something she wasn't bothering to explain. "So? Isn't that what you wanted? First you complain they see too much of each other, now you worry they don't see each other at all. Make up your bloody mind, woman."

Zoe sighed in frustration. Frank could be so dense sometimes. "I doubt they've stopped seeing each other in public because they suddenly got bored of one another," she said. "I think something's going on that shouldn't be."

Frank finally got it. "You think – _no_. Jack wouldn't do something like that and neither would Gabrielle." Jack may have been a constant source of frustration for the things he did impulsively, but he wasn't someone who would go to bed with a colleague while he was married – the situation was too potentially disastrous. "He's got too much honour, and she has too much pride."

Zoe believed the bit about Jack's honour and Gabrielle's pride, but she also believed that the two of them had something special, and that they had been pushed too far – Jack in particular. Gabrielle might have too much pride to get involved with a married man in regular circumstances, but Jack's were hardly regular circumstances. Zoe trusted Jack to be faithful more than she trusted most of the single men she knew.

Which didn't change the fact that Jack was, if only in the eyes of the law, still married. "I think there's something going on between them," she repeated.

Frank waved her away, eager to get rid of her so he could concentrate on the task at hand. "Fine, I'll talk to her."

Like hell he would. Frank had a lot of talents, but diplomacy was not one of them. He'd probably frighten Gabrielle back to her country town with his abrasive way of speaking, and while that would solve the problem of her and Jack being together – if they _were_ together, Zoe still clung to the hope that maybe they'd just had a falling out – it would leave the ED without the best NUM they'd had since Frank had taken over, at least according to hospital legend. "I'll talk to Jack," she said. She thought Jack was easier reasoned with than Gabrielle, and besides, she could approach Jack purely as a friend, whereas the professional/personal mix of her relationship made it harder for her to talk to Gabrielle.

Frank looked relieved that Zoe had taken the responsibility of talking to Jack. Getting involved in whatever relationship the two of them were conduction was not his idea of a good time. He'd rather face a dentist. Or admin.

Zoe was fortunate that Jack was the second person to get to Cougars for after-work drinks a few days later. "Jack?" she asked, her voice deceptively sweet. "Do you know if Gabrielle's seeing someone?"

The look of guilt that flashed across his face was all the answer Zoe needed, but she decided to let him stew for a bit. "Why do you ask?" he asked cautiously.

"She's looked so happy lately, and I know you guys are close – I thought she might have said something." At that, Jack blushed deeply and it was obvious that _he_ was the person Gabrielle was seeing. "Jack..." she admonished him, although she didn't have the heart to be hard with him. She still felt keenly lonely following Sean's death, and she and Sean had been allowed to love each other publicly. She could only imagine how lonely Jack was and what had driven him to abandon his honour.

"I wish I could walk away," he admitted. "I thought about transferring to another hospital to get away from her, but... when I'm with her... everything is so much more bearable... not even just bearable, but _enjoyable_."

"You know it will ruin her reputation if anyone knows."

He was well aware of that. And Mike and Zoe had already worked it out – what was to stop anyone else from working it out? "She made her choice," Jack said stiffly. His eyes flashed when he caught Zoe's disapproving eye. "I know it's not ideal, but what if _you_ could be with Sean again? Wouldn't you do anything you could to have that?"

He was only voicing her own thoughts, which was why it made Zoe uncomfortable. "That's different," she insisted.

"What's _different_ is that you and Sean were allowed to be together. I know it's not even _close_ to ideal but we love each other and I'm trying to do the right thing for her... are we being indiscreet?" he asked.

"_She_ is." Zoe admitted, a little unwillingly, because she felt she had somehow been co-opted into condoning their relationship.

"I'll talk to her," Jack said with a grimace. At that point, Zoe actually felt sorry for him. It couldn't be easy, conducting a relationship and having to deal with the day-to-day reality of how discreet they were being in case his bitch of a wife found out.

* * *

Jack let himself in the next day to be hit with the smell of something roasting. He came up behind her in the kitchen and placed his hands on her hips. "Hey, beautiful," he said huskily. He started planting kisses on her neck and shoulders. She was wearing a simple sundress with thin straps, so he pushed them down her shoulders. Gabrielle arched her neck so Jack could get better access. "Miss me?" he asked.

"I always miss you," she responded. "I hate seeing you at the hospital and not being able to touch you."

"You can touch me now." He needed to talk to her about what Zoe had told him, but he didn't have the heart to break the moment.

Rather than touch him, Gabrielle accepted his touch passively, doing or saying little as he trailed kisses across her bare skin. He moved his fingers across her stomach, the heat easily penetrating her thin dress. He moved his hands upwards to her breasts, squeezing them. She wasn't wearing a bra. "Jack!" she admonished. "I'm in the middle of dinner."

"I'm sure the carrots can wait," he replied. He brought his hands down around her ass and squeezed. She didn't protest; pushed against him, in fact.

"Jack..." she murmured. She arched her neck against his shoulder and he kissed her bare skin. It was all he could do not to leave a mark; what was a guy to do when presented with bare expanses of his lover's skin? He gathered the material of her dress in his fingers and inched it up until it was at hip level. Expertly, he slid his hands under her panties without letting her dress fall down.

"So sexy," he whispered huskily as he squeezed her ass again. She made a small sound of protest when she felt him pull her panties down so they fell at her feet, but he silenced her with a strong caress. He rubbed her ass for a few seconds, the trailed his fingers across her hip and down between her legs. "Spread," he directed her.

"Jack..." she whispered in a weak protest. She felt a thrill at the shamelessness of it all. He wanted her, and didn't care when or where... and to tell the truth, neither did she.

In response to her weak protest, Jack pressed his fingers against her most sensitive parts and with a gasp spread her legs the way Jack wanted. He pushed his fingers inside her, probing, caressing, arousing her until she had to grip the counter – carrots completely forgotten – in order to keep herself on her feet. "Jack," she cried out again. She could feel the bulge in her jeans against her bare ass. "_Jack_." What was it about this man that he could make her completely forget her sensibilities and not care when or where he had her?

Obeying her unspoken request – closer to a command – Jack pulled away slightly so he could unzip his jeans. He yanked them and his boxers down to free his erection, and positioned himself to enter her. "You ready?" he asked. It was an irrelevant question, but one that he constantly needed to ask; he had too much experience himself with unwanted sex for it to ever leave his mind entirely.

"Yes," she gasped. She moaned when Jack pushed himself deep inside her and began pumping her hard. He wasn't trying to be gentle and she didn't want him to be. For a few minutes, he thrust hard and fast. She met him as well as she could – it was a position largely meant to be passive – and cried out as she climaxed. There was something very basic, even a little dirty about the whole experience, which made it all the more exciting. She could feel his balls against her ass and it was electrifying. "Jack!" she screamed his name as she came.

He climaxed soon after her. "Wow," he murmured huskily in her ear. "Didn't mean to get carried away." Especially in light of the fact he planned on having a word to her about her lack of discretion. Well, how was he to help that she was the most insanely sexy woman he had ever met. "Here." He did up his jeans and pulled her around so she was facing him, and kissed her hungrily. "It didn't feel right to do that without kissing you properly," he explained after he pulled away.

She laughed and stroked his cheek. She loved the way he could be shamelessly sexual – and encourage her to be – one second, and sweet and affectionate the next. "I need a shower now," she explained.

"You go have one. I'll do the carrots."

They sat down to dinner together before heading to bed for what Jack called a 'proper' lovemaking session. It was, Gabrielle had to admit, ultimately much more satisfying then they're faceless trying over the kitchen counter. "I love you," she murmured softly in his arms afterwards.

"Love you too," he replied.

It didn't take her long to latch onto his moodiness, and she pushed him on it. "Mike's onto us," he said flatly. "Zoe too". Gabrielle's heart fall. She knew it wouldn't be easy, she knew these were among their closest colleagues and confidants – both professionally and personally – so the most likely to work it out, but still, for it to be worked out so soon... "Zoe brought it up because she thinks you're obviously in love with someone – it's how she got me to admit to it, actually."

"How big a deal is it?" she asked him, just as flatly.

"I don't know. I trust them both and I think if anyone was going to work out, it was them... and Dan and Caitlen," he admitted. It was instantly preferable that Mike and Zoe knew to Dan and Caitlen; Mike and Zoe were both old enough to realise what could happen should too many people know about it, and could be trusted to keep quiet about it. Whereas Dan was highly likely to tell Erica, and the two of them were massive gossips, and Caitlen was almost as likely to tell Ben. Jack wasn't sure which option was more unlikeable. "Gabs, this is something you have to take seriously."

"I do take it seriously!"

"Not enough that Zoe didn't cotton onto it. Look, you know you mean the world to me, don't you?"

"Yeah." Despite the obvious sincerity in Jack's voice, Gabrielle shivered, because there was a tone there she didn't like.

"Then don't make me leave you for your own good."

His words were so final and Gabrielle shivered. She had no doubt Jack would do exactly that. She knew Jack still had his doubts about being with her, knew he struggled with his conscience to be sleeping with someone while being married to someone else – no matter what the circumstances were. She knew he would leave her if things between them became public knowledge... and the thought of not being with Jack chilled her more than anything she could remember hearing in her life... at least since _'it's terminal'_.

"I understand," Gabrielle said, although she had no idea how she was going to achieve what Jack was asking of her – to deny that she was in love, to deny that every time she thought about him – and she thought about him so often – she wanted to smile and blush and sing. "Whatever you think is best."

* * *

"Jack, is something going on between you and Gabby?"

Jack stopped dead in his tracks when Caitlen uttered those words. He had gotten home early from Gabrielle's for that very reason – he knew he was spending too many late nights, or nights over, to chalk it off to them being 'just friends' and he was making an attempt to be more discreet. Since he'd come down on Gabrielle for it, it was something he needed to do himself. Besides, he had a more farsighted vision of the situation, and figured he had to be the one to set the bar for discretion. Which meant not staying over more nights than not.

"Why do you say that?" he asked, immediately on guard.

"Cos you're never at home. You spend heaps of nights out and I figure you spend enough time with her as it is that that's where you are. Plus, you actually seem happy lately – happier than I've ever known you. And she seems happier, too. You guys had this really tense vibe between you that was totally repressed chemistry and –"

"Caitlen, life is not _Romeo and Juliet_," Jack snapped. "You don't know what you're talking about."

But she wasn't about to let up. Young and romantic that she was, she had long thought Jack and Gabrielle would make a perfect couple, and after all, it wasn't like he was _really_ married, was it? She followed him through the house. "You think I'm a stupid teenager because I'm not this jaded, sophisticated Sydneysider who's slept with dozens and dozens of people," she challenged, and Jack felt a little guilty, because he _could_ be quite condescending with Caitlen at times.

"That's not true. You just – you don't know what you're talking about? You think this is easy for me?"

"No, and I don't think it's easy for her, either," she said. She had this way of doing the same thing Gabrielle could do with her stare, forcing him to look at her, forcing him to reveal his feelings, even though she was so young – _just a kid_, he had often thought. "It's OK to have someone you care about, you know."

"No, it's not. I mean – I don't," he finished lamely. Goddamnit, she had Gabrielle's same knack of teasing out the truth. She was looking at him with this stupid happy grin like he'd just appeared as her favourite movie star and begged her to marry him. She looked like someone who'd just had it proven to them that true love not only existed but always found a way. "OK, fine. My bad for being too obvious."

"I think it's nice."

"You would."

"Well, it's not like you're _actually_ married," Caitlen said.

"See, _this_ is why I'm inclined to think of you as – as a _teenager_," he said, opting not to use the word _stupid_. "You think _Romeo and Juliet_ was a great love story. You know what it was about? Two squabbling families who didn't know what they were squabbling about, two teenagers too stupidly infatuated to bother communicating and, hey, look, two _dead_ teenagers. What part of that play didn't you read? Everyone _died_. That they _loved_ each other didn't changed that. And I _am_ actually married. Signing a marriage certificate makes it _actually married_."

"That's what Gabby said," Caitlen grumbled.

"You should try listening to her."

There was a flat tone in Jack's voice that Caitlen didn't like. "I don't understand what the big deal is," she admitted. "It's not like you're sleeping with Deanna. And I _know_ you're a great guy. I see how you are with Ella and Gabby – Ben and Russell would love you."

"Who's Russell?"

"Their dad."

Jack spun around to face her, and for a second, Caitlen was reminded of the cold fury in his eyes when he had come home to find Patrick with Ella. "Have you said anything to them?" he asked.

"Of course not. How could I saw anything when I didn't know what was going on?"

"You could have said what you _thought_ was going on."

"I didn't," she maintained with that same stubborn tone that Gabrielle used. Jack was beginning to think there was some truth to the fact that boys went on to marry women who reminded them of their mothers; except in Ben Jaeger's case, lacking a mother, took to someone who's personality could be remarkably like his sister's at times.

He scowled, then softened. He figured if Caitlen _had_ said anything, even just random thoughts, Gabrielle would have heard from one of them by now. "Keep it that way," he ordered.

"But Jack – "

"Oh, will you quit with this tragic-romantic crap of yours?" he snapped. "Do you _really_ think they're going to love the fact she's involved with a married man – and quit with the not-really-married crap, too. Do you really think they'll buy that? Sorry." He said when he saw her face fall. "I didn't mean to snap at you. I just... don't think you understand how bad this looks to most people, even if _you_ get it. How do you think your dad would feel if it was you? How would you feel if it was _your_ sister."

That finally got through to Caitlen and she began to understand how Jack and Gabrielle's relationship, should they be found out, would look to most people. "Fine, I won't say anything," she agreed. "But you should have her come over for dinner sometimes. I bet you guy make a really loving couple."

"Caitlen! Never let me hear you encouraging adultery again!" Christ, but it was hard to be angry at a girl who was sweet, if maddening, in her hopelessly romantic view of the world.

* * *

"Look, I don't know how to confront you about this, so I'm just going to come outright with it... Ricki and I know you and Gabrielle are together."

Jack nearly choked on the bear he was in mid-swig of. Spluttering it all over Dan's couch – served the guy right for bringing it up at such an inopportune moment – Jack placed it down on the table. "I've no idea what you're talking about," he said as indignantly as he could, given Dan was right on the money.

"Hey, I lived with you for three months, I do know a little bit about you."

"Like?" Jack asked crossly.

"Like... until a few weeks ago, during her period had nothing on you being a prize moody bitch." Jack flinched at what was actually quite an accurate description of his personality as he had sunk deeper into the misery of being married to Deanna and the horror of reliving his childhood abuse. "Don't deny it, it's true. You know you made Bart cry once? He pretended it was just an allergy, but you've said some nasty things to people."

Jack cringed even more at that. He had completely blown his stack over a missed call on Bart's account; a missed call that had been easy for an intern to make. (If he thought about it hard, he could probably come up with a time he had made the exact same mistake.) It had been right before he and Gabrielle had gotten together, and he realised now how tightly wound he had been." So?" Jack asked, as loftily as he could manage given he knew what Dan was getting at, and knew Dan was right.

"You're a lot happier. At least, you don't snarl at people the way you used to. I know it can't just be because Deanna spends even less time at home." Caitlen had made friends with one of the cafeteria workers, who fed the rest of the hospital, along with appalling food, detailed accounts of Deanna's comings and goings. Dan suspected the reason Jack didn't tell his busybody nanny to keep her mouth shut was because it raked him in the sympathy points."And there's _definitely_ someone in Gabrielle's life. Ricki says women can always tell."

Jack groaned. Great, so Dan and Erica had been sharing their theories to everyone who listened. "I remember damn well how eager you were to tell everyone you could find about me and Charlotte," he snarled, momentarily back to his outrank-Jessica-as-prize-bitch mode.

"Hey, you gave me permission to do that!" Dan said, although secretly, he would have gone behind Jack's back had he been denied permission. And anyway – Jack had robbed him of his chance to be the bearer of one of the best scandals to ever hit the hospital by outing them himself. "And we haven't said anything, either. I am perfectly aware of what you did to the reputation of the _last_ colleague you slept with."

Jack couldn't help but smirking at that. Dan had a selective memory. "That would have been Deanna, you git," he said, tossing the bottle top at him.

Dan poked his tongue out. It was good to have Jack in a somewhat playful mood. He wholeheartedly approved of anything – or anyone – who could make him smile. "Look, I just wanted to know that we both understand... and we thought maybe you'd want to come over to dinner sometime. We figure you guys don't get much opportunity to socialise."

Two things struck Jack. One was that he constantly referred to he and Erica as 'we'. They were definitely that kind of couple – but then, they had been those kinds of friends. The other was.. ."You've _got_ to be kidding me," Jack said. "You, of all people, condoning adultery."

"Because of my dad, you mean?" Dan asked. Jack nodded. Dan had talked a little about how his father's affair following his brother's paralysation had affected his family; Jack knew better than most that once the line of adultery had been crossed, it wasn't something that could truly be 'gotten over'. "That was different. Mum loved him – still loves him – and was doing this best in this crappy situation... and dad couldn't deal so he blocked it out. I know why you married Deanna and I have some idea of how miserable you've been. You've got quite an advocate in Caitlen, you know. I think she hero-worships you." At every opportunity, Caitlen mouthed off about her boss's wife. (Since Jack had employed her and Jack paid her wages, she considered _him_ her boss and Deanna 'the skank'.) "I realise you are legally married but that only counts to the offices of births, marriages and deaths, and no-one else... including me. So if we can help you enjoy yourselves a little more, then I'm all in."

It was the first time Dan had said _I_, which Jack didn't fail to notice. "Thanks," he said, and impulsively, he leaned over to squeeze Dan's arm in a way he _never_ did with men. Dan didn't fail to notice that, either.

"So naturally, Luke _loves_ that he's still a better sportsman than me, wheelchair or no wheelchair," Dan finished off his story a few days later after several bottles of wine and even more pizzas had been finished. Since Dan's culinary abilities extended only so far as making himself toast and coffee in the morning and Erica's were only rudimentary and Jack and Gabrielle refused to do the cooking as guests – even if Dan _had_ extended quite a generous act of friendship – they had settled for take-out. And it turned out to be more appropriate than any meal; just four friends enjoying pizza, alcohol and conversation in the living room.

"Sounds like my brother," Gabrielle said wryly. "He's six years younger than me and since _he_ was about six, he's loved to beat me. " She leaned her head back against Jack's chest, savouring the intimacy as much as the fact that she could do so in front of other people – even if they _were_ her subordinates. "I miss him."

Jack kissed the top of her head gently, an affection neither Dan or Erica missed. "I can't imagine not having Bec around... although she annoys the crap out of me at times," he admitted. He laughed, remembering something. "She and Cait took to each other like magnets. It was only then that I realised Bec's only two years older, and part of the reason I find her frustrating at times is that she can act like – well, a teenager."

"_There's_ two women I wouldn't want united against me," Gabrielle said. Caitlen and Rebecca's mutual dislike of Deanna was one of their strongest bonds.

"I know! My god, the way she went after Bart! It was so – "

"Bitchy?" Gabrielle offered. She hadn't been there to witness it first-hand, but having come to know Rebecca, she was well aware the younger woman was capable of such a thing. Erica nodded, grinning. "She's, uh... passionate. Charlotte reckons Jack would have been the exact same when he was nineteen."

"I am not saying anything in case I incriminate myself," Jack retorted. He wrapped his arms a little tighter around Gabrielle. "Besides, I highly doubt no-one _else_ here went a little crazy at uni... especially a certain someone who was several thousand kilometres from home."

Gabrielle twisted her neck slightly so she could look up at Jack, and she poked her tongue out at him. Dan and Erica cracked up at the childish, loving display. They had, pretty much from day one, had an excellent camaraderie, the kind of relationship that instantly grooves. It had been what had gotten people talking about them in the first place. But now that they were together, there was something beyond that initially camaraderie that was magical. The way she looked at him, the way he looked back... he bent his head slightly to kiss her...

Dan responded by throwing popcorn at him. "Hey! This is my house! I have rules!"

"What, ones that only your tenants have to obey?" Gabrielle asked with a giggle. She'd had far too much to drink, but it had been nice to let her hair down. She was well aware of what she might do or say should she have too much to drink around the wrong people – and right now, almost _everyone _was the wrong person – that not having to watch her behaviour was a pleasant change. Besides, she wasn't _that_ drunk. And Dan and Erica couldn't bring it up later anyway, without also bringing up a plausible explanation as to what they had been doing entertaining Jack and Gabrielle.

Dan scowled, but not too seriously, at Jack. "What have you been telling her?" he asked.

"Absolutely nothing," Jack said sweetly. Erica stifled laughter at that. The Bianca Frost incident had happened shortly before Jack had moved out, and Jack had been very vocal about it at the time.

"Something about you making a lot of noise," Gabrielle offered. She'd _definitely_ had too much to drink.

Dan scowled, knowing full well that the only thing he could do in retaliation was tell everyone about how his boss had had too much to drink and started needling him about his sex life – and to do _that_, he had to out her and Jack. Drunk or not, she had him over a barrel – and was thoroughly enjoying herself. And everyone knew it.

"I think it's time we went home," Jack said after he and Erica had finished laughing at Dan's squirming.

"What? I'm having fun," Gabrielle protested.

"You've also had a little too much to drink and more to the point, I told Caitlen I'd be home by midnight."

"You should bring her over next time," Erica suggested, herself having had a little too much to drink and confusing her words. "I meant Ella," she said when Jack looked at her in confusion. She and Gabrielle exchanged the look of two drunk people who were in on the humour – at the expense of their boyfriends who weren't. "Aunty Ricki hasn't seen her in ages."

"Aunty Ricki best not say that around Aunty Bec or Aunty Cait, they get jealous," Jack said wryly. Well, at least there was no shortage of doting aunt-figures to provide Ella with a good female role model. He stood up and held his arm out to Gabrielle. She took his hand, and he hoisted her up – easily on his part, a little stumbly on hers.

"Thanks for tonight," Jack said to Dan after he'd made sure Gabrielle was strapped in. He'd let her drink too much – not that Gabrielle was really someone you could tell what to do – but then, she'd needed it. "I didn't realise how much both of us needed to do something more than just spend time at hers." Impulsively, he hugged Dan.

"You're welcome," Dan said, surprised at the embrace. Jack wasn't a hugging man. At least, not with men. He wondered if Gabrielle had anything to do with smoothing out that homophobic edge of his. He and Erica watched as Jack reversed the car into the street and headed home...

... "I embarrassed you," Gabrielle said regretfully when Jack got her home an helped her undress. She luxuriated in the way he combed her hair out, so gentle.

"My wife had sex with a barman at a hospital function," Jack reminded her. "You just let off some steam. I don't think anything could embarrass me at this point." He knelt so he could wrap his arms around her from behind. "I love you," he whispered into her ear.

She brought his arms tightly around her. There was something both safe and sexy at the same time. "I love you, too," she said. When Jack helped her into bed, she was reluctant to let him go. "You can't stay?" she asked.

"If I stay, I won't leave here until midday," he reminded her. Gabrielle had this way of cuddling up to him that made him lose all track of time. "But I'll come over tomorrow night."

"And bring Ella."

"And bring Ella." At times, Gabrielle seemed almost as devoted to the girl as he himself was. More than once Jack had wondered how much of it was that Gabrielle saw herself as some kind of quasi-stepmother figure. He didn't know wether to be touched or worried. He kissed her goodbye again, and reluctantly left for his own home...

... "That was nice of you," Erica said to Dan a little while after they had seen Jack and Gabrielle off. "I never would have thought you'd be so supporting."

"'Cos of my folks, you mean?" First from Jack, now from Erica. Dan didn't get why people were so surprised. It wasn't like Jack was in the same situation his dad had been in – or, for that matter, Jack's own father, and Dan explained that. "besides, did you see them together? I always knew they had something special, but watching them tonight – you can tell they're in love. It's got to be hard enough with everyone else willing to judge if they knew, I won't add my opinion to it."

"That's very loyal of you." It was what Erica loved about him, keeping Jack up with his bedroom antics aside. He had a deep sense of loyalty and mateship.

Dan shrugged. He didn't see it so much as loyalty but helping a mate out. It didn't matter how in love they were, or how miserable he was with Deanna, or what a general rotten human being Deanna was. The majority of people wouldn't understand; worse, they would gossip viciously. The pair needed a break, and Dan knew they would be few and far between.


	7. Chapter 7

**Hey guys!Good thing I split up the last two chapters, otherwise it would have been like 30K words :p But the final two or three will be fairly short. Enjoy! **

"Jack, I don't suppose I can have a little time off from the 16th?"

"How much time?" Jack asked, suspicious about her tone. Something told him that her idea of 'a little time off' and his were different.

"Um... two weeks... maybe three," Caitlen admitted.

"Why do you need all that time off?" Jack asked incredulously. If she needed it, he supposed he would have to work it out, but the fifteenth was less than two weeks away. He already had his surgery schedule for the next month.

"Well, Ben's coming to Sydney for a few weeks for my birthday and... look, I know it's really short notice but he doesn't understand that you're hours are weird. If you can't give me the whole time off then... whatever you could do?"

She looked so hopeful and pleading that Jack didn't have the heart to tell her no. Besides, he knew what it was like to be in love. "I'll see what I can do," he said. If all else failed, Charlotte was still on maternity leave, she could help him out. "Where is Ben staying?"

"With Gabrielle."

It was what Jack had been afraid of. "He can stay here if he wants."

"That's nice of you, Jack, but you don't have any obligation –"

"Oh, this is entirely self-centred, believe me," Jack said with a rueful smile. "I'll do what I can to give you time off, but it will be easier for me to know you're here. And if _Ben_ is here, then – "

"Ah." Caitlen got it. If Ben was staying with Gabrielle, it would be a lot harder for Jack to see her. Although Deanna was rarely at home these days, her presence – or, rather, absence – wasn't reliable enough for Jack to have Gabrielle stay here. She frowned. "Sorry, I didn't think of any of that when he brought it up. I was just so excited and –"

"Cait, it's fine. I don't expect you to centre your life around my situation." Ben Jaeger being in Sydney would definitely be a hassle, but Jack had no-one but himself to blame for that. Certainly, he couldn't blame this in-love teenager for it. "I'll work around it. And hey, you didn't say anything about your birthday. I wanted to do something for you."

"Jack, you're sweet."

"Don't tell anyone, I have a reputation to protect. Besides, it will be worth every penny when Deanna finds out i never spent so much on her. At least not of my own volition." Extorted ball gowns didn't count.

Caitlen poked her tongue out at him. Jack was a great boss, and she was sure Ben would like him – at least so long as he didn't know about his relationship with Gabrielle. Deanna aside, she knew she was lucky to be working for someone like him. She'd heard horror stories about men and their nannies – and married surgeons seemed to be the worst. "Jack?" she asked after a pause.

"Yeah?"

"Can you – uh, do you think you could... I, um, I need you to write me a prescription."

"For what?"

"Umm..."

Jack had limited experience with teenage girls, let alone awkward ones, so it took him a while to cotton on to what Caitlen was trying to ask him. He couldn't help but smirk indulgently when he did. For all she got offended when he treated her like a kid, she had a knack of reminding him that she _was_ just a sweet teenage girl. "You want a prescription for the pill?" he finished for her.

"Yeah."

"You been on it before?"

"No."

"Then what – ah, OK." He'd embarrassed the poor girl, he realised guiltily. Well, it was nothing to be embarrassed about (although _he_ certainly hadn't believed that when he'd been sixteen, let alone eighteen – but his circumstances had been different, he justified). He looked at her thoughtfully for a few seconds. He didn't know why it hadn't occurred to him that she might still be a virgin, apart from a) sex and Caitlen weren't things he thought about together and b) like most people, he tended to view the world from the perspective of his own experiences, and _he_ certainly hadn't been a virgin – in any context of the world – at eighteen.

God, what he would have given to have been a virgin at eighteen. Without realising it, his eyes narrowed and he frowned resentfully, a frown Caitlen misinterpreted.

"You're giving me that look," she said crossly.

"What look?"

"The Caitlen's-a-dumb-kid look."

"I am not!"

"You are too. You think I'm this dumb country kid who's too much of a prude to let her boyfriend do anything."

"Right now I think you're a hypersensitive country kid who thinks her boss has nothing better to do then judge her. You're not even eighteen. "

"The average is sixteen."

"Yeah, well, you know what? _I_ was sixteen and I wasn't ready." Jack figured that was close enough to the truth to pass it off as the truth; sixteen had been his first time with a woman.

Caitlen looked at him dubiously. "You're making that up. Guys are always ready."

Jack wondered how he'd gotten into this conversation. He should have packed her off to Gabrielle, let _her_ have the older-person conversation with Caitlen. "That's crap. There's far too much pressure for guys to prove something – and I don't even know what it is we're supposed to be proving."

Caitlen still looked doubtful, although now a little less so. "Are you serious?" she asked.

Jack nodded. "Look, I know this is going to sound really condescending, but you really will get it when you're older. In the meantime, there's nothing wrong with taking your time. The last thing you need is to regret something like that."

She heard a wistful tone in his voice, and wondered who he was thinking about.

* * *

"So this is the guy Cait talks so much about."

"All good, I hope." Jack felt jittery around Ben. He seemed like a decent guy, but he was terrified that the younger man would pick something up, especially with Gabrielle in the same room. Ben had all but insisted that his sister be included in the dinner Jack had planned for him, and what had he been supposed to say? _Uh, the thing is, I'm sleeping with your sister and apparently everyone knows it just by looking at us together so I would rather not be in the same room as both of you at the same time_.

So here he was, catering for Ben, Caitlen and Gabrielle. And Ben had insisted on sitting next to Caitlen, which meant forcing Gabrielle onto the opposite couch, less than a meter from Jack, even when they sat at opposite ends of it.

"She never stops talking about you," Ben said, a little indulgently. Caitlen had been like an excited puppy when Gabrielle had landed her the job, and had since maintained a level of hero-worship on Jack. Although she made her opinions on Deanna clear. Ben was inclined to think she was exaggerating; _no-one _could be that bad, could they? "That or... is it Ellen?"

"Ella," Caitlen and Jack corrected in sync.

"She's a beautiful child," Ben acknowledged.

Jack raised his eyebrows in Caitlen's direction. "What? I couldn't not send a photo," she said as indignantly as if she were the proud mother herself. Ben commented on that. "Well, she needs a mother," Caitlen said crossly.

"Won't argue with that," Gabrielle said under her breath. "What? She really is horrible, Ben, Cait's not making it up. The first time I met her I was having a drink with Jack and I had my security pass on me – this thing –" she explained, pulling it out of her pocket and waving it around. " – and she had a massive dummy spit 'cos I had _her_ pass and _her_ boyfriend."

"What, so now you just make sure you have it whenever there's a chance you might run into her?" Ben asked. He might be eighteen, but he was well aware of his sister's stubborn streak. If this Deanna woman had lashed out at Gabrielle over something unreasonable, then Gabrielle was very likely to go out of her way to make a point forever more.

"What's your point?" Gabrielle asked. Ben choked back his laughter. She looked very guilty, and he had no doubt his older sister had been going out of her way for the last year to stick it to this woman.

"Knowing what the two of you can be like, I think I feel sorry for anyone you're united against," he said.

"Don't be. She deserves it," Caitlen said, her eyes flashing at the unfairness of the situation and the general nastiness that was living with Deanna, even on the rare occasion she bothered to show her face.

"Guys, do you think we can talk about something else? I quite like not being reminded of my wife." Jack spoke the word _wife_ in a tone that both Gabrielle and Caitlen were used to but Ben raised his eyebrows at. Caitlen had filled him in on the state of the Quade marriage, but he still found it hard to believe two people who hated each other so much would stay together.

The conversation continued over dinner and after-dinner drinks until Gabrielle reluctantly admitted she had to go home. She had loved seeing Ben again, had even liked being able to spend time with Jack, even if they couldn't let the reality of their relationship be known. "I'll walk you out," Jack offered. It was the only opportunity he'd had to be alone with her this evening, and he was taking it.

"I wish I could stay," she murmured outside when he permitted her a hug. On the off chance Ben should come outside, they couldn't be seen doing anything more intimate.

"It's only a few weeks," he reminded her. It didn't seem like much consolation that the only reason Gabrielle was over in the first place was because not even Deanna would think he had installed his mistress right under her nose when said mistress's brother and his girlfriend were also there. "I'll try and come over tomorrow."

"I'd like that," she said. In a way, having Jack this close and not being able to do anything was worse than not seeing him at all. She had a mind to march back in and tell Ben what was going on, consequences be damned.

"Don't," Jack said simply when she threatened to do just that. "Believe me, it won't be worth the hassle." It was one thing that Rebecca and Caitlen – even Dan and Erica – accepted the situation. They were far enough removed from the situation that they could see the situation for what it was. But Ben and Russell never would. Jack couldn't say he'd blame them. If it was Rebecca in the situation he was putting Gabrielle in, he'd want to smash the guy's face in. "I'll do my best to see you, OK?" He permitted himself a quick kiss before pulling away from her and heading back into the house.

Ben was on the couch, rifling through one of Jack's books. "Is this a medical book?" he asked. "I can't understand it."

"No, it's Russian copy of _War and Peace_," Jack said. He smirked. He was so paying Gabrielle out on the fact that her brother didn't know the difference between medical jargon and a completely different language.

He had a fleeting thought that one day Ben might be his brother-in-law and he could pay him out forever more.

Ben looked sheepish and put the book back where he'd picked it up from. "Where's Caitlen?" Jack asked.

"Having a bath. She said to say goodnight."

"Oh." Jack went to the fridge to get another beer and picked up his book. "Can you really read that?" Ben asked.

"Yep."

"Did you study that at uni? Cait says you're really smart."

"I went to AUMEL. They don't teach language there," Jack explained when Ben looked at him blankly. "Australian University of –"

"Yeah, I know what AUMEL is." Only because Caitlen had explained it, though, and Caitlen only knew because she'd looked it up after Jack had told her. "You know," Ben said, with the smile of someone who is absolutely secure in their relationship, "if circumstances were different, I think she'd have quite a crush on you."

Jack nearly spat out his beer at that one, sure the younger man could read the thoughts he was sure were all over his face. "I'm sorry?"

"Caitlen. If circumstances were different, I think she'd have a crush on you. She absolutely worships you."

Jack breathed a sigh of relief. Was _that_ all? "I have a sister your age who has friends who are all determined to get me to take them out. I am well used to deflecting the interest of teenage girls," he said wryly. "Besides, she's a good kid, she's helped me out more times than I can count."

"You've helped her out. She thought she'd have to get a job as a waitress or something to get by here, no-one would hire her to take care of their kids."

Jack hoped he didn't look guilty after that comment. He remembered all-too-well how reluctant _he _had been to take on a teenager. "I owed Gabby a favour," he said.

Ben looked at him quizzically for a second, and Jack wondered how much they had given themselves away with their body language. "You guys are close?" It was phrased as a question, but delivered as a statement.

"I guess." _Last night we were certainly close. I don't think she could have wrapped her legs around me any tighter_. OK, he had to stop thinking those thoughts; He was sure they were showing up on his face. "She's someone I can rely on, and I need that right now." He thought about the day Deanna had left Ella drugged and alone so she could go out and get laid, and shivered at how close he could have come to losing her.

"She's a little aloof around men," Ben said, choosing his words carefully. "Does she ever talk about her ex, Steve?"

"A little." _Like how selfish he was in bed_.

"I don't know what happened between them – I was only fifteen when they broke up – but whatever it was, it really upset her. She doesn't trust people easily, especially not men. So it's nice that she trusts you."

At that, Jack buried his head in his book, conscious of the fact he was blushing furiously. _Yep, she trusts me. She trusts me not to sleep with my wife and to do the right thing by her and her reputation. Which would be shot to hell if it ever got out that I'm screwing her brains out_. "I'm glad I could be in your good books, then, with Cait and Gabby," was what he actually said. _Please remember that a few years from now when I can divorce that witch and you put two-and-two together about the timing of our relationship_.

Ben let Jack read for a few minutes, then asked, "Jack, you've been with a lot of women, haven't you?"

Jack had a sinking feeling he knew exactly where this was going. "What makes you ask that?"

"You look like you have. And Cait said there was something about a lesbian."

Jack groaned inwardly. _Great_. So not only was Caitlen happily gossiping to the hospital staff, the hospital staff were gossiping right back. "It was a dumb mistake I made when I'd been dumped. Besides, I always thought she was bisexual."

"Yeah... but there've been a few women, haven't there?" Ben persisted.

"A couple, why?"

"You know how to make them feel comfortable?"

"I guess... look where is this going?"

"I wanna do the right thing by Cait," Ben blurted out. "It's not something I can talk to dad about."

_Great, so _I_ get delegated the brother-figure_, Jack thought. Jack sighed and put down his book. He figured Ben must be desperate for advice if he was coming to _him_ – that, or Gabrielle and Caitlen had both spoken highly of him. _That_ made him feel good, at least. "I know Caitlen's crazy about you," Jack said. "She's a little nervous, but that's to be expected, I guess."

"Were you?"

"Was I what?"

"Nervous."

"I grew up very familiar with my dad's loose interpretation of fidelity," Jack said wryly. "And I have two older brothers who share his opinions. I bet I had an even more thorough sex education than you country kids." That, and being repeatedly raped as a teenager tended to make you somewhat jaded and not the least bit nervous about sex beyond the necessity to prove that you were straight. "But I know it's not something you should rush into. If it means anything, I would trade everything I have to be a disgustingly-in-love teenager like you and Caitlen are."

Ben didn't doubt him for a second. "What about your attitude towards fidelity?" he asked suddenly. Jack looked at him sharply and wondered what kind of intellect lurked behind that simple, innocent country-boy appearance. He wondered how much Ben had picked up about his relationship with Gabrielle, wondered how much he had worked out about what had caused Gabrielle and – what was his name? Seth? – to break up. "It must get lonely. Are you ever tempted to...?"

Ben felt Jack's stare bore right through him. "Whether I'm tempted or not is immaterial," he snapped. "I'm not free to offer anyone anything, and damned if I'm going to be like my dad and keep a bunch of women dangling on the side, thinking one day I really _will_ leave my wife."

It seemed enough to make Ben let go of the subject – or at least to be distracted for a little bit. _Not a bunch, just one. And I really _will _leave Deanna the first opportunity I can_.

* * *

Ben and Caitlen were watching DVDs the following day when Deanna made an appearance. "I gather you're pleased to see me," she said sarcastically when she saw Caitlen's face fall. "Don't worry, I'm only here to pack. Some friends and I are hitting the Gold Coast. So you can go back to seducing my husband just as soon as I'm done."

Deanna noticed the way the young man next to her tensed up. He had that same fiery, protective look that Jack got in his eyes whenever it came to Ella - and a few times, long ago, when it had come to _her_. Deanna scowled to remember it. She missed having someone care about her that much, being willing to defend her at the smallest slight, more than she cared to admit, even to herself. "You must be the mousy country girl's brother," she said, her particular brand of sickly-sweet venom dripping from every syllable. "Brad?"

She knew perfectly well what his name was, she had overheard Jack and Caitlen talk about it all the time. "Ben," he corrected. He saw the way Caitlen gripped his hand. So, he had Jack's same habit of taking a swing at anyone who insulted one of his 'girls', too. Deanna bitterly remembered when Jack had been prepared to get in a fight with Nelson over her (legend went that Jack had broken Nelson's nose over it, although it had only been a few words between them). She remembered as if it was yesterday that Jack had been prepared to fight the whole world for her. Ben had that same look in his eyes. It only made her even more angry at the young couple. "My husband didn't say anything about having guests," she snapped irritably. She had a habit of referring to Jack as 'her husband'; people seemed reluctant to remember that they _were_ legally married

"Perhaps if you were here occasionally instead of out screwing your boss, he would have mentioned something," Caitlen said smartly, secure in the fact that she had Ben between her and Deanna and Ben would take Deanna's crap no more than Jack would. Even less, because Jack had long resigned himself to ignoring Deanna, whereas Ben would tolerate no-one bad-mouthing or striking his girlfriend.

Deanna seemed to get this. "Whatever," she said, deciding to treat the young couple like pesky rodents. "Just don't touch anything of mine. I know exactly where all my things are."

"As if I'd go into her room," Caitlen said darkly. "_Some_ of us don't need a whole bunch of miracle creams to hide the fact we're thirty."

"Is she always like that?" Ben asked incredulously. Caitlen and Gabrielle had both told him Deanna was a prize bitch, but he hadn't believe someone could be _that_ bad and still have someone like Jack put up with her. Not to mention Caitlen. "I love Ella like she was my own," Caitlen said, which sounded like her, she _always_ fell in love with the children she looked after. "Like hell I'm leaving her with just Deanna's influence."

Ben wondered what kind of man Jack was that he could inspire that kind of loyalty. It was a pity he was married; he was sure he and Gabrielle would have made a great couple.

A few days later, Caitlen was showing Ben around Sydney, care of the itinerary Jack had made for her. At eighteen, it was his first time in a place which had a population of more than fifty thousand people, and he was duly impressed. It hadn't taken them long to slip back in the same comfortable groove they had always existed in, and they whiled away the hours talking about everything under the sun – including his sister and the boss that she adored (and said boss's wife). "I don't understand why he stays," Ben admitted. "If he didn't want to get married in the first place –"

"I don't know the whole situation – actually, I know hardly anything at all – but I know he's anti-abortion in a way that makes the Pope look like a raving civil libertarian."

"Civil libertarian, huh? I think you've been spending too much time with him, you're starting to pick up his vocabulary. And this is the same Jack I've met, right? He doesn't strike me as super-conservative."

"He's not, it's just abortion. I don't know why. You're best asking Gabby, if she'll tell you anything."

"They're close, aren't they?" Ben asked. Caitlen confirmed that. "I think it's good for her to have a mate like that. I don't think she ever really got over Steve. I don't know what went wrong there but I know she took it really hard."

Caitlen kept quiet, thinking it wasn't her place to say, but there had been gossip about Steve Taylor for as long as she could remember. Her old teacher, Julia Frost, had been a close friend of Gabrielle's and had made no secret of her dislike of Steve. Caitlen was a firm believer in putting stock in what your friends thought of your boyfriend; everyone _loved_ Ben. Just like, marriage aside, she thought Jack and Gabrielle were perfect together. So if Julia had taken such a dislike to Steve – but that, she decided, was none of her business. "They're good for each other," she agreed. With all the pleasantness surrounding them, with the last few days of being joined at the hip and fitting easily back into that same old groove where she could tell him _everything_, she forgot there was on thing she couldn't tell him. "It's just a shame they have to sneak around in private."

Ben dropped Caitlen's hand in shock and crossed his arms over his chest. "_What_ did you just say?" he asked.

"Nothing," she lied.

"Caitlen..."

"Ben..."

"I've known you since you were born," he said, conveniently forgetting the fact that he himself had only been a year old when she had been born and therefore _hadn't_ known her. "I know when you're hiding something. Is something going on between Jack and Gabby?" Caitlen diverted her eyes from his and shuffled her feet. Ben grabbed her more forcefully than he ever had before. "_Is_ there?"

"Look, you wouldn't understand – " she started to say.

"Damn right I wouldn't understand! He's _married_, Caitlen."

"Oh, Gee, I didn't realise that," Caitlen said sarcastically. "And all this time I thought we just had an extra boarder."

"Don't be smart with me," he snapped, furious that they had kept this from him – that for several days, Jack had been acting like the perfect host while behind his back – "That prick!" he yelled.

"You like him well enough yesterday!" Caitlen objected.

"Yesterday he wasn't sleeping with my sister."

"Well, actually –"

"Oh, shut up." Caitlen looked ready to burst into tears at Ben's tone. Ben abruptly turned around and started walking back towards the car.

"Where are you going?"

"To Gabrielle's. Bet that prick is with her."

"That _prick_ is my boss," Caitlen reminded her.

That made Ben stop dead and whirl around to face her. "Has he ever done anything to you?" he asked. "You know... been inappropriate?" he pressed on when Caitlen looked completely blank.

"What? God no!" That Jack would ever do that was laughable. OK, so it looked bad, but to Caitlen, there was a hell of a lot of difference between getting involved with a friend who was free to make her own decision, and pushing his attentions onto a teenage employee. Even witnessing how lonely Jack was, it had never occurred to Caitlen to think that she was an easy target, it was that much beyond the pale for Jack. "He's got heaps of honour."

"So much that he'll take advantage of a friend," Ben retorted.

"Oh, stop it. It's not like that. She knew –" Caitlen stopped, aware that she was only digging a deeper hold for them.

"Knew what?"

"It doesn't matter."

Ben didn't push the matter, and Caitlen found herself running after him back towards the car. He was determined to confront Jack, and since he was bigger than her and there was no way she could stop him, she figured the best she could do was go along and try to stop him from doing something he'd _really_ regret...

... At Gabrielle's house, Jack was lying in his back, his shirt open and Gabrielle smothered his chest with kisses. He had mentioned he didn't particularly like being underneath during sex because the feel of someone's weight on top of him always creeped him out. So Gabrielle had come up with the idea of lavishing him with affection, which he had to admit was working quite well. He whimpered as he felt her tongue work its way down, her fingers caressing his abdomen the length of his jeans. Cheekily, she brushed her fingers across his groin, and kissed his erection through his jeans. She was becoming an expert tease, and he groaned at the sensation...

He groaned in a different way when he heard a bang on the door. "Ignore it," he pleaded. This felt so good, and he didn't want it to stop. Mr. Travelling Salesman could peddle it somewhere else.

The banging kept up, and Gabrielle reluctantly got out. "I'll just be a few minutes," she promised. A few minutes to get rid of Mr. Travelling Salesman and return to turning Jack on...

"Ben!" she said, surprised to see her brother at the front door, with Caitlen in tow. Jack had said the two of them were going to be sight-seeing for the day, which left Gabrielle free to do her own thing. She automatically ran her fingers through her hair, knowing it was messy. Jack loved playing with her hair.

Ben eyed her critically, taking in the dishevelled hair, the flushed face, the wet mouth and knew exactly what she had been up to. Gabrielle took a step back, for the first time in her life feeling like the younger sibling, the naughty little sister who had been caught out up to no good.

Gabrielle's taking a step back made it easy for Ben to push his way in through the front door; her shock at seeing him meant she didn't react quickly enough. "Jack!" Ben called, marching through the house. He had an idle thought that Jack was far more familiar with the place than he was. "I know you're here, your car's in the drive!"

Jack emerged from the bedroom, looking guilty as sin. "You son-of-a-bitch!" Ben yelled, clenching his right hand into a fist and taking a well-aimed swing at Jack. It took all of Jack's restraint not to hit back. But he'd spent his childhood learning how to avoid a beating, and he easily evaded Ben now. "If you wanted to get laid, you could have gone to Kings Cross, but no, you had to seduce my sister!"

"Ben!" Gabrielle yelled at him. "Jack didn't – "

"Be quiet!" Ben yelled at her. "I'm taking you back to the farm with me. Just wait until dad hears about this."

Out of the corner of his eye, Jack saw Gabrielle go pale and tremble at that threat, and his heart went out to her. It was what they had been afraid of from the word go. Ben took advantage of Jack's temporary distraction to throw another punch. "Ben!" Gabrielle yelled again. "Jack did not –"

It was Caitlen who wedged herself between Jack and Ben with a complete lack of thought for her own safety that surprised all four of them when they had calmed down. Luckily, Ben saw her in time to lower his arm, poised to hit Jack again. "You are disgusting," Ben said to Jack, shaking with rage. "She was much better off with Steve."

"Oh, for heaven's sake, Ben, Steve _cheated_ on me," Gabrielle cut in.

Ben whirled around to face his sister. "What?" he asked.

"He cheated on me. With Ashley."

"Ashley Jones? Your best friend Ashley?" Gabrielle nodded. Ben took a few seconds to let the information sink in, then he spat, "And what makes you think he won't do the same thing to you?" He turned back to face Jack. "You wouldn't be the first married man to say you're not sleeping with your wife."

"Oh, give it up," Caitlen snapped. Seeing Ben in a rage had frightened her. He and Jack had the same murderous temper when it came to the people they cared about. "If you won't trust Jack, then trust me. When he's not at the hospital or with Gabby, he's at home. And Deanna's the nastiest human being I've ever met. There's nothing going on between them."

Gabrielle took advantage of the fact Jack was calmer to grab Ben's arm and lead him into the guest room. "Just so you know," she told him in her best no-nonsense NUM voice that she had learned from years of being an older sister, "Jack didn't seduce me. He held me at arm's length at every turn. _I_ was the one who pursued _him_."

Ben gave her an ugly look which Gabrielle tried not to take too personally. She knew he had worshipped her, especially after their mother died, and it was hard for him to learn that his sister was sleeping with a married man. "So _you_ chose to be his – what's the word? Mistress? Whore? My God, Gabby, what were you thinking?"

"Ben, d'you remember what it was like when mum died? How it felt like it would never be OK, every again?" Ben nodded. "It was like that for Jack. He hates her so much – it isn't healthy to hate someone that much. And there's no way out for him. There are like half a dozen people in the world who get that he really is only there for Ella. I know he really loves me, and I know he won't be unfaithful."

"Then why doesn't he leave? If he loves you that much?"

"Deanna will take Ella from him – not because she cares about her, just out of spite. He loves me, but not as much as he loves her. If I give him an ultimatum, it will be me he leaves. And he needs me."

"Needs you so much he doesn't care about your feelings?"

"I knew what I was getting into, Ben. When Jack and I first met – well, there was something there from the start and I think we would have gotten together ages ago if it hadn't been for Deanna." She shrugged helplessly. "I love him."

It sickened Ben to hear her say that. "You're coming home with me," he said forcefully. "Tell dad you had enough of the city. It certainly seems to be corrupting you."

"No. Tell dad if you want, if he hates me and disowns be then so be it – but I'm not going back to the farm."

"You'd rather be a married man's whore then be respectable?" Ben asked harshly.

"Don't say it like that."

"Why not? It's what you are, aren't you? My god, what's happened to you? You used to be so – _good_. You used to have such high standards. Then you got all dark and moody on us and now you do crap like _this_. I remember when you and Steve used to – "

"Oh, give up on Steve, will you. He cheated on me. He gave me an STD. He was supposed to be the love of my life and he was off screwing my best mate. Maybe I'd have – _higher standards_ – if I had a bit more faith in men, but what's done is done, and I know Jack. He keep me at arm's length because even in that miserable marriage to a woman he hates, he still believes in fidelity. I know the only reason he gave in is because he needs me so much. I know he won't cheat on me. I know he wants to marry me."

"_Right_. Because you're the first mistress who believed that from a married man."

"Fine, don't believe me. Go home and tell dad I'm a whore and you can both disown me for all I care, but I'm not leaving Jack." And with that, she turned and fled the room.

Jack and Caitlen were in the kitchen. She ran straight into his arms and he wrapped them around her. He kissed the top of her head as he felt her tears drip onto his shirt. His heart burned for her. "Ben," he said in a low, dangerous voice, "you can hit me if it makes you feel better. I deserve it. But you make Gabby cry, and I'll ask you to leave."

"This is my sister's house. You can leave. Or better yet, don't keep putting her through this."

"She made her choice, If she wants to leave, I won't make her stay, but I'm not leaving her."

"Then divorce your wife."

He felt Gabrielle tremble in his arms, although he wasn't to know that she had already told Ben that if his hand was forced, he would choose Deanna because of Ella. "I know this sounds condescending, but you really will understand when you have kids."

He kissed the top of her head, and Ben's heart burnt for the way they were openly affectionate now – as if they were a real, legitimate couple. "I'll expose you," Ben declared.

"Go ahead. You think I'm the first surgeon to have an affair? One of my first professors is notorious for it. All you'll do is destroy your sister's reputation. And while you're at it, help find Caitlen a new job. See how well she does without a reference." He had no intention of dragging Caitlen into this, but Ben didn't have to know that.

He saw the younger man start to soften – weather it was from seeing his sister upset or knowing what it would been for Caitlen to be unemployed, he seemed more willing to listen to reason. "Why don't we go for a drink?" he suggested. "My shout."

"I'm not going anywhere with you!"

"Ben, for God's sakes, be reasonable. It's a drink, not a lifelong contract." Caitlen's voice was pleading. She wasn't sure how serious Jack was about firing her, but she knew how he got when someone he cared about was threatened, and she wasn't entirely sure he _wouldn't_ go through with it.

"Fine," Ben relented.

* * *

... "I don't think you really understand how vicious Deanna can be until you've lived with her... or realised the extent of her deceptions. When I found out what she'd done I couldn't keep food down for two days, I just kept thinking about it and wanting to throw up. I kept thinking of all the things she did because she had me as a backer. When I first met your sister, I was horrible to her, but then we went out for a drink – this place, actually - and she made me feel good about myself in a way I hadn't since I found out who Deanna truly was. Then she was always someone I could talk to after I got married – and she's so good with Ella, every time they're together I think about what a good stepmother she'd make. I really tried to hold her at arm's length. I was so miserable and she was the only person who could make me smile. Well, other than Ella, and she has to do even less to make me smile." Jack's eyes went out of focus as he thought about his daughter, and for the first time since meeting Jack, Ben got a glimpse of how much he loved her. "I have no doubt that if I leave Deanna before Ella's old enough to tell a judge what she wants, she'll do everything in her power to take her from me. Not because she loves her – I've never met a woman with _less_ maternal instinct in my life – but out of pure spite and revenge. I can't lose Ella, and I certainly won't put her in a position to be raised by Deanna. If that means losing Gabrielle, then that's what I've got to do."

"But –"

"But what? You think I haven't lain awake at night and thought about this? How I can leave Deanna and keep custody of Ella? I've looked into it. Because I technically work about twice as much as she does, she's considered the end-home parent and since the courts default to the mother, that's already two strikes against me. Oh, and you may as well know since I'm sure Caitlen will let it slip at some point, I've been physically abused and since statistically that makes me more likely to be an abuser myself, that's three strikes." He spoke the word _statistically_ with bitterness, because no amount of praise from what a born paediatrician he was would entirely erase that strike. "Ben, I have wracked my brains over this. I'm not putting Gabby in this position for the fun of it. I leave Deanna, I lose Ella." He stared out the window for a few seconds. "You know, I watch you and Cait and some friends of mine who are just as disgustingly in love and able to hold hands in public and I'd move mountains to have that for myself if I could."

There was a wistful note in his voice that ran so deep Ben couldn't help but be just a little moved. It had never occurred to him that his and Caitlen's relationship could ever be considered dirty or forbidden, but that was the situation Gabrielle found herself in. Maybe he'd never care about a child so much he'd allow himself to be trapped in a situation like the one Jack was in, but that really was the only difference in how their lives had ended up. If he found out tomorrow that he and Caitlen couldn't be together because of malicious actions that they had no control over –

Jack sensed Ben was swaying in his resolve to hate him and condemn Gabrielle. "Look, I was planning on having a dinner for Caitlen on her birthday – the four of us. Why don't we make it a kind of double date? You can see how we are together – that is, when you're not punching me – and make up your mind then."

Against his better judgement, Ben found himself agreeing.

* * *

"Anyone seen Jack today?" Bart asked, brimming with gossip. "I think he and Deanna got into a fight. He's got a massive black eye."

"Doesn't surprise me," Cate said. Since Dan and Erica seemed to have long since lost interest in talking about Jack's marriage, she and Bart had often found themselves doing it. That they were out of the loop as to what was going on was, of course, beyond them. "I always thought that woman was capable of violence."

... "You want to tell me what really happened?" Zoe asked Gabrielle when the two women had a few minutes alone. She didn't believe for a second that Deanna was capable of violence – she was more the type to get men to beat up other men on her behalf. Or maybe start a hair-pulling catfight with another woman. But an impressive right-hook on a man significantly bigger than her? Unlikely.

"My brother hit him," Gabrielle admitted. Zoe flinched. It was one thing for friends to know who were removed enough from the situation to at least understand, if not support. For her brother to know.

"What are you going to do?"

"We're having dinner, the four of us – him and Caitlen, they've been together since they were, like, six, that's how I know her – tomorrow for her birthday."

"Jack's knockout nanny comes of age," Zoe said dryly. It was the day half the men in the hospital had been waiting for. It was just a pity they couldn't all be told that Ben Jaeger clearly wasn't someone who's girl you wanted to mess with.

"Something like that," Gabrielle said. It was a light moment that distracted from the seriousness of the situation. Ben seemed to be a little more enamoured - or rather, a little _less_ disapproving – of Jack, but if Jack couldn't win him over, Ben would go to their father, and Gabrielle was sure his daughter sleeping with a married man was not something Russell Jaeger would stand for.

* * *

Jack, Ben had to concede, was an excellent cook, if a little sophisticated for his tastes. And he had terrific taste in wine. "We don't eat this well at home," he admitted. "Not since..." he trailed off.

"Not since I left and you and dad were forced to get by in the kitchen?" Gabrielle asked. "Although _get by_ is a generous term." She smiled cheekily at Jack. "He once just about burned the house down by boiling a pot dry."

"I did not! I only set the fire alarm off," Ben defended himself.

"I think someone needs to explain to Jack that starting fires on a fifty-thousand-acre farm _in the middle of a drought_ is a little more serious then setting fire to a beachside mansion," Caitlen piped up.

"It's not a mansion," Jack protested. "And it certainly isn't fifty thousand acres."

"I think it's bigger than our place and the Warren place combined," Ben said. "The homestead, at least. If I ever move here, this is where I want to live."

"Maybe Jack and Caitlen can teach you how to cook," Gabrielle said. "I know I couldn't." She smiled again at Jack. "He and dad reckon the only thing men need to know how to cook is barbecue and yabbies."

"What's a yabbie?"

Ben rolled his eyes. "Jesus, Gabs, could you have tried harder to find a more ignorant guy?"

"Really? Why do we celebrate Australia Day?" Jack shot back with a smirk. The first January he and Rebecca had known each other, they had held court at Cougars all Australia day night, belittling everyone who's answer ran along the lines of 'so we could all get drunk'. It was what had led Dan to declare that even drunk, Jack was an intellectual snob.

"Um... so we could all get drunk?" Ben offered. It was a pity they couldn't have fireworks like they got in Sydney, but farmland during the summer made it too much of a risk. He scowled when Jack laughed. "Yeah, well, it's much more important to know what a yabby is then to know why we celebrate Australia Day."

"'Cept we study Australian history in year ten, last I checked, farm animals aren't on the syllabus."

"Yabbies are fish, Jack, not farm animals," Gabrielle pointed out. She would have been worried except for the fact Jack and Ben actually seemed to be _enjoying_ making fun of each other. And if they were having a good time, who was she to interrupt them?

The night progressed with easy conversation and a warm camaraderie. Ben knew part of it was the wine and champagne screwing with his brain, but he also knew that married men tended not to treat their mistresses with the kind of easy, gentle affection that Jack showered on Gabrielle. At least, he _thought_ that didn't happen. It wasn't like he had a whole lot of experience with these things. He watched them covertly when they were in the kitchen, the way he hugged her from behind and rested his head on her shoulder in a simple, romantic gesture and became more and more convinced that he really did love her.

At the end of the night, Jack insisted on catching a taxi home. He wasn't willing to take the risk of Deanna coming home unexpectedly, although that was unlikely. "You can catch a taxi or you can have the couch," had been Jack's firm words. Gabrielle had chosen a taxi.

"I'm going to bed," Jack said when he came in from seeing Gabrielle off. "Cait, there's another bottle of that champagne in the fridge I bought as a present, although I suggest if you two want to keep drinking, hit the cheap stuff. You won't know the difference right now."

"The voice of experience?" Ben teased.

"Something like that. One of these days I'm going to tell you the story of how I drank two bottles of Dom Perignon when I would have been just as better off with passion pop."

"What's passion pop?"

Christ, had he ever been as ignorant about the world's indulgences – especially the cheapest, nastiest indulgences – as Ben was? "I'll tell you that one day, too," he promised.

"Sounds like he's changed a lot," Ben commented.

"I wouldn't know. He's always been like that. But I know he was practically able to drive, he hasn't had much to drink. He won't if he knows _I'll_ have had too much to be able to take care of Ella."

That surprised Ben. He hadn't thought of Jack who took his responsibilities as a parent that seriously, and the thought disquieted him. "Remind me to check on him before we go to bed," Caitlen said. "He never go straight to sleep. He unwinds by reading and watching Ella, and I keep finding him having fallen asleep with the bedside light on. It's kind of cute. I'm going to remind you of it if we ever have kids."

Ben shot her a dirty look. Having kids was not exactly on his agenda anytime soon. Something his dad didn't understand – Russell loved to point out that he wasn't likely to have another son to give him Jaeger grandsons to carry on the family name. "I don't think I want to be around to deliver the news if dad gets a Quade grandson before he gets a Jaeger grandson," he mused with a laugh.

That his comment was meant in humour wasn't lost on Caitlen; Ben was getting used to the idea that Jack and Gabrielle were together and he loved her as honourable as he would were she his real wife. "The only thing that keeps him with Deanna is Ella," Caitlen reminded him again. "They have something real special, and they need all the support they can get."

"Am I not allowed to want the best for my sister?"

"You are... but where do you think you're going to find a better man than Jack? He's devoted to her."

"He's _married_."

"He doesn't know the meaning of infidelity. You know what, Ben, I didn't know why exactly Steve and Gabby broke up, but I heard rumours and I knew Ms Croft didn't like him. I don't know how I'd cope if that had been me. But it makes sense as to why she doesn't trust men. And I know she trusts Jack, so he must have gone above and beyond to earn that trust. She can do worse than that. She could be with some chauvinist who sleeps with her best friend. Look, why don't you hold off on telling your dad? What's in going to achieve, anyway? You won't go back to the farm, all it will do is create a rift. You really want to do that to your family?"

"No," Ben admitted. What he had wanted was to take Gabrielle back to the farm and away from Sydney's corrupt influence. But Gabrielle was determined to stay and it was obvious she and Jack were in love.

"Then – let it go, at least for a while. At least do it for me. I'm never going to get a job this good with a boss this great." She was offering him a way out, the opportunity to something for her rather than Gabrielle.

"Fine," Ben grumbled. "But only 'cos it's for you."

* * *

"Something wrong?" They were lying in bed after what Gabrielle considered to be unsatisfactory sex. She understood now how technically talented Jack was in bed, because his heart and soul were completely absent tonight, which made his technical capabilities all the more obvious. God knew, it was all he had going for him right away.

Jack grunted which was Jack speak for 'go away'. Which Gabrielle had no intention of doing. "Hey, you were the one who told me if we weren't honest with each other, we had no hope of getting through this," she reminded him.

There was a long pause before Jack finally blurted out, "I've been recognised by the AMA for my work with Mike."

And he was _upset_ about that? "Jack, that's terrific," she said. He was incredibly young to be recognised for his work; something that had come about because of his talent, ambition and work with Mike.

"The ceremony's next month," he said flatly.

"And?" You'd think being recognised so young would be something he'd be excited over.

"And... Deanna already found the invitation. Nosy bitch went through my mail. I told Mike to arrange everything to be sent to his office from now on."

"Oh." _Now_ Gabrielle understood. Jack wasn't just upset that Deanna had found the invitation; he would be upset because she had found out and wrangled herself an invitation to the ceremony. Where there would no doubt be plenty of journalists and reporters who would be interested in a young, talented surgeon. No wonder Deanna was keen to go; she'd get to show off like she hadn't before. For a night at least, she would be undisputed as the #1 woman in Jack's life. It took no stretch of the imagination for Gabrielle to picture Deanna socialising with women like Caroline Craig and giving herself airs forever more over it. She suddenly realised she would have more in common with Caroline Craig than she though, and laughed ironically over it.

"What's so funny?" Jack asked crossly. At least Deanna didn't have the nerve to get him to cough up for a new gown this time. She would break the bank in order to impress the other wives and he'd get the credit for it. It amused him that she'd have to spend money she didn't really have in order to compete with someone like Caroline Craig, without being able to admit that her husband hated her guts and wouldn't spend a dime on her. At least _that_ was worth a grim smile.

"Just thinking that she'll be giving herself airs about having a surgeon husband in common with someone like Caroline Craig without realising she has something else in common – their husbands have a penchant for younger nurses." Jack scowled, and Gabrielle realised she'd said the wrong thing. "Lighten up, I was just being silly."

"I used to date a friend of his daughters. Apparently she spent most of her adult life drifting through relationships 'cos of the lovely example she grew up with."

"Oh. Sorry."

"You didn't know."

"What happened to her?"

At least _that_ got a smile on his face. "She married and, last heard of, was blissfully happy somewhere in the country. You were probably neighbours with her or something, but I don't know his last name. Apparently she refused to let Richard walk her down the aisle... then he made an ass of himself by calling the groom by her ex's name."

"You extracted all of this out of your ex?"

"Nah, Charlotte told me. She can't stand the prick. Plus, I think she had a bit of a crush on the woman." It was the last of the light moment. Jack groaned to think about having to go to this ceremony, what should have been a triumph for him, with Deanna on his arm, giving herself airs about being married to him. "It feels like a betrayal," he admitted quietly.

"You told me this would happen," she reminded him.

"I'm not about to start saying 'I told you so'. Gabs, I hate the thought of going to this without you. I especially hate the thought of going with _her_. I'll have to touch her and everything."

"At least I know you have no interest in sleeping with her," Gabrielle said, trying to get the light moment back. It failed. Jack scowled deeper. "You can't not go. Think about how bad a snub it will be to people you can't afford to snub. I know you don't want to spend the evening playing happy couples with her, but think of me and Ella and our future. You won't be stuck with her forever, and when you're free, do you really want to look back on the bridges you burnt because you wouldn't socialise because of her?"

"No," he admitted. Gabrielle had a knack for making him see sense.

* * *

In hindsight, Jack should have realised Deanna was up to something. She had been so damn chipry, so accommodating since the ball that she _had_ to have had something up her sleeve. She wouldn't have been Deanna if she hadn't. But Jack had just put it down to the fact she had hit it off really well with Caroline Craig, something that had amused Jack to no end. He could easily see Deanna in thirty years time as a caricature of Mrs Craig; haughty, snobby, label-conscious, no interest in her daughter and an iron determination to ignore her husband's infidelities for the sake of holding onto the title of a surgeon's wife. _Well, I promise you in thirty year's time you may be all the former, but you definitely _will not_ still be a surgeon's wife_, he promised Deanna silently.

He had to concede, Deanna had well and truly come through with the goods, although Jack wasn't keen on knowing _how_ she had managed to pay for a Dolce and Gabanna gown. But she had been beautiful, witty and charming – the woman Jack had thought he'd known when he had first fallen in love with her. Now, he realised that was only a facade she put on to draw men in – but she could still play the part to a T.

His hackles were immediately raised when he drove into the driveway to see a strange car parked there. Did Deanna have someone over? If she'd brought someone over while Ella was in the house, he'd kill her. (That he frequently took Ella with him when he stayed with Gabrielle was entirely different; _he_ was in love and Gabrielle was a good influence.) "Deanna?" he asked testily when he let himself in the front door. "Do you have someone over?"

The smell of hot food hit him immediately. That made him suspicious. Deanna couldn't cook for shit. He remembered finding out that she actually used a catering service which specialised in home-style cooking. What was she up to?

He stepped into the kitchen/dining area to be greeted by Deanna in an apron. Ella was in her bassinet, positioned on the breakfast bar. "Darling," Deanna greeted him in an overly-chirpy voice that immediately raised his hackles. "I have such a surprise for you. Remember Geoffrey Parker? From the AMA ceremony?" Jack stared at her blankly. "A _journalist_," Deanna reminded him. "With _The Scene_."

_The Scene_ was a social magazine which Deanna subscribed to religiously; it was one of the few things Jack had ever seen her read. It tracked the comings and goings of what the magazine considered to be Sydney's 'elite'. It was no wonder it was Deanna's bible. "We got to talking at the ceremony and he was interested in meeting you."

_Of course. You sucked up to a reporter to get your name in a paper_. Why else would she be acting so nice? Perfect cook, perfect mother, perfect housewife - all of which would appear in _The Scene_ if she had her way. Like hell he was going along with it. He turned to Geoffrey. "I'm sorry, I like to keep my private life private. I don't know what you were hoping for but I'm not interested."

Geoffrey smiled in an overly charming way that immediately put Jack on edge. "It would be a great story, good for your career," he said.

"My career's fine."

Geoffrey frowned. He'd not yet come across a surgeon who _didn't_ like publicity, and said so. "Any reason you _don't_ want me to write a story about you? You seem to have it all – the career, the happy marriage, the beautiful child. Unless you have something to hide?"

No wonder Deanna had gravitated towards him, Jack thought, he was just as manipulative as she was. It was on the tip of his tongue to say he was welcome to go digging, but he stopped himself. He knew it wouldn't take much effort to find out about Gabrielle, and then the shit would _really_ hit the fan. Not to mention Deanna's own indiscretion. Not that he cared who she slept with, but he _would _care if the whole world knew him to be a cuckold. He shrugged, as if it was immaterial weather or not this guy wrote about him when inwardly he was seething over being put in this position. "Fine," he said. "Just make sure you don't upset Ella."

The next two hours were torture for Jack. Deanna waxed lyrical about their happy marriage until Jack alternated between wanting to smack her and wondering where she got her fiction from. Geoffrey never got too personal with his questions, but his habit of heaping on the superlatives made Jack _wish_ for more aggressive tactics. He supposed he should be grateful the guy didn't seem interested in looking beyond what to Jack seemed like such an obvious façade – it wouldn't take much to find out about his relationship with Gabrielle – or get some pretty damning stories from his step-mother – but talking about his life to a perfect stranger in the presence of the wife he hated wasn't exactly his idea of a good time.

And then there were the photos. Geoffrey wanted a series of pictures that captured the happy Quade family – images of them as a loving couple, as loving parents of Ella... it was all Jack could do not to grab the guy's camera and throw it against the wall. "You're too stiff, Jack," Geoffrey complained when he wanted them to pose facing each other on the couch. Geoffrey wanted Jack to put one arm around her waist and his free hand cupping her face. Jack would rather have swallowed razor blades then touch Deanna but short of exposing his marriage for the lie it was – and potentially giving Geoffrey carte blanche to dig up a far more interesting story then a wonder boy fluff piece – he had to do it. "The camera just loves you two," Geoffrey crooned. "You're such a photogenic couple."

_Yeah, I'll give her that_, Jack thought. _Always knows how to present her best side_. Not only did touching Deanna give him the creeps, but it made him feel like he was cheating on Gabrielle. Now, _there_ was an irony. Legally at least, he was cheating on Deanna with Gabrielle, not the other way around. But that didn't stop every fibre of his being feeling like he was doing the wrong thing by Gabrielle. He thought about seeing Gabrielle in a cosy situation like this – and he knew the photos would make it look like a cosy set-up, regardless of the reality – and his heart churned to think about another guy touching her. She was _his_ and he knew how she would feel if she could see him now.

Eventually, it was over. Geoffrey departed spewing more lavish praise about his career, their marriage, their home and their daughter. Deanna was beaming as if she had discovered the Holy Grail – which, in a way, she had. Her life's ambition was to be a surgeon's wife, appearing in social magazines and being envied by others.

Jack was furious. He waited until he heard Geoffrey's car reverse down the drive, turned to face Deanna, and struck her with all his strength. "You bitch!" he yelled at her. "You pull a stunt like that again and I swear to God you'll solve all my problems _because I will kill you_."

Deanna backed out of reach. "You bastard!" she spat at him.

"That's getting a bit old, Deanna. You think I _care_ what you think of me?"

"I could have you arrested for assault."

"Go ahead. See how many events you get invited to as a surgeon's _estranged_ wife. See what a joke you are when that pack of lies gets published and everyone knows Jack Quade can't stand his manipulative, trashy wife."

Deanna glared at him hatefully. She had been so excited that Geoffrey had been sold on the idea of doing a story on Jack – after all, it wasn't often someone as young as he was got recognised by the AMA, and to be good-looking with a beautiful wife and child made it an irresistible social piece – and she had thought that personal feelings aside, Jack would see the sense in participating in such a story. If he had achieved this much under the tutelage of men like Vincent and Mike, imagine what more he could do if he got the attention of the country's finest surgeons and administrators. And what did she get by way of thanks? A slap!. "You're a prick," she hissed.

"And you're a manipulative bitch, we're even." He strode passed Deanna – she flattened herself against the wall, scared to get to close to him – and went to Ella. She had started to whimper in her bassinet, something she always did when there was more tension than usual between Jack and Deanna. Jack was convinced their bond was that strong that she could sense aggro. "It's OK," he whispered gently. He picked her up and rocked her expertly. "Daddy's here." He was so engrossed in her that he was oblivious to the evil look Deanna was giving him.

Soon after, Deanna declared she was going out. Jack ignored her. He didn't care where she went so long as she wasn't in the house. Once she was gone, he was by himself – Deanna had somehow contrived to get rid of Caitlen – and when he couldn't concentrate on a book, he fixed himself a strong bourbon and coke and drank until he felt the alcohol start to cloud his mind. Ella waved her tiny fists at him and Jack responded by offering her his little finger to grab. "You're everything to me," he told his daughter morosely. "But I don't know how I can keep living like this. I don't know how I can keep doing this to Gabrielle."

Ella just looked at him uncomprehendingly with her aqua eyes, flecked with green.

* * *

Cate had gotten hold of the newest edition of _The Scene_, and she and Bart were thoroughly amusing themselves with the work of fiction that was the story on Jack and Deanna. "I love my husband," Cate read in a melodramatic voice. "Marriage is hard work, but nothing worth having is easy. Good God, where is she getting this crap from? A Mills and Boons novel?"

"Man, look at that photo," Bart said. It was the one Geoffrey had cajoled Jack into posing for, with his hand cupping her face. "I thought he couldn't stand being with five meters of her."

"He can't, I reckon he was put on the spot."

"You think she'd do that?"

_"I wouldn't put anything past her." Cate skimmed down the article. "Ha, listen to this. In response to suggestions that being a surgeon's wife is a risky vocation because of the amount of women interested in them, Mrs. Quade replied, 'I know there will always be women looking for the thrill of dating a surgeon, but I trust Jack. No-one comes between me and my man"_. Good Lord. I wonder if this – Geoffrey Parker – could keep a straight face. What journo believes such crap?_'_

"What are we so engrossed in?" Gabrielle asked, coming in to see Bart and Cate thoroughly enjoying their magazine. It looked like one of those glossy magazines that women pondered over; certainly nothing Bart would be interested in. And Cate had never struck her as much of a women's magazine kind.

"Oh, this interview Deanna contrived to get Jack to do for _The Scene_," Cate explained. "It's this social magazine – totally for losers with social-climbing aspirations. I hear she fancies herself to be part of Caroline Craig's circle of friends."

"I wonder if she knows Richard screws around on her something chronic and is the Lousiest. Parent. Ever," Charlotte piped up, pretending that she wasn't the least bit interested in a rubbish magazine about social pretensions. "Maybe she should be trying to emulate Richard instead." Now, _there_ was a scary thought. Richard and Deanna between them were selfish and ambition enough to have made a perfect couple, but any kid of their would probably end up shooting themselves. Still, the thought of what havoc they could wreak as a couple kind of amused her. And both Jack and Caroline deserved better spouses.

That got a chuckle out of Cate, who was well aware of Richard Craig's penchant for pretty young nurses. She herself was younger than his _daughter_, but that hadn't stopped Richard.

"Let me see that," Gabrielle said, a little too abrupt for discretion. She yanked the magazine out of Cate's hands and skimmed through the article. In her heart, she knew what a croc it was. She knew how Jack tensed up when Deanna was around, knew he couldn't stand to touch her and Deanna and this Geoffrey Parker must have had something on him to make him go along with that ridiculous façade. Clinically, she took note of the fact that Jack was rarely quote except in regards to his work as a surgeon; everything was either Deanna's words or Geoffrey's.

But that didn't change the fact that their images were in front of her, in living colour, looking like any other happily-in-love couple. As long as it had felt, Gabrielle realised they had been married less than two years; in the eyes of people who didn't know what was really going on, they were practically still newlyweds. And they certainly looked the part, the way he was stroking her face like that. In her head, Gabrielle got that Parker must have taken a dozen shots before he could get one which didn't show the blazing hatred in Jack's eyes (and she wondered if Parker had realised something was seriously wrong with the Quade marriage) but in her heart... her heart broke to see them together like that. Her heart broke to read Parker's lavish praise about their marriage and happy home and family. He heart broke to see him looking like he _belonged_ with her.

Not in the whole time Jack had been married had Gabrielle realised so deeply that he _was_ bound to her. He had said those vows, even if he hadn't meant them. She had known he didn't mean them. She could never have become his mistress had she thought for a second that he meant them in any capacity. But –

But he looked there as if he meant them.

When she had first realised Steve was cheating on her, she had felt as if the wind had been knocked out of her. She had felt as if someone had decided she had no more use of her heart and decided to rip it out. She had felt like the world as she knew it was no more, that everything she believed to be true was a lie. And even though she knew the position Deanna must have put Jack in to get him to go along with this story, she felt like that this very second.

She shoved the magazine back into Cate's hand. "You know this is rubbish," she said. "And you should be classier than to talk about a friend like that – a friend you know is in a miserable position. _Both_ of you," she added witheringly.

"Sorry," Cate and Bart said simultaneously, in matching small, contrite voices.

Gabrielle fled to the sanctuary of her office, where Zoe found her later that day. "You do realise that Jack's marriage has been the topic of gossip for so long it's considered public property?" she asked Gabrielle. Gabrielle nodded slightly. She knew she had been too quick to react with Cate and Bart. They had been treating the article as a hilarious piece of fiction and she had acted like – well, a mistress who doesn't like seeing her love playing happy families with his wife. "And you didn't think that people wouldn't ask questions when you suddenly act like it's a private matter?"

"Seeing them together made me feel sick," Gabrielle admitted.

"You must have known something like this would happen eventually."

"He could have _told_ me about it!"

"Lower your voice. You want people to _hear_ you playing the indignant mistress? Yes, he should have told you about it. But you know damn well that he didn't do it willingly. We've _both_ seen him with Deanna. He can't stand to touch her. I bet that journo needed to take a dozen photos before he got one that didn't have Jack looking like he would kill her."

It was exactly what Gabrielle had thought, but having someone confirm it didn't make her feel any better. "It makes me feel –"

"Like any other mistress who's lover is full of crap about not sleeping with her husband?" Zoe offered. Gabriele nodded again. Zoe sighed. How did she keep getting involved in this mess Jack and Gabrielle called a relationship? Because she actually empathised with them, that was why. "We both know that isn't true. Look, you're seeing him tonight, yeah?" she asked. Another nod from Gabrielle. "Then go home, relax, calm down, and hash it out with him rather than moping in here."

"People will talk if I leave."

"People are already talking and you're no good to anyone here so you may as well go home."

So Gabrielle did go home, but rather than relaxing and calming down, she hit the vodka, so by the time Jack arrived expecting an intimate night, she was well on her way to drunk. And the more she drank, the angrier she got. All she could think about was Jack holding Deanna like she was his – his goddamn _wife_.

"Babe, what's for dinner?" Jack asked as he made his way into the living area expecting to be greeted by that warm smile that Gabrielle always reserved for him. Instead, he got an empty glass narrowly missing his head and smashing against the wall behind him. "Jesus Christ, what the hell is _that_ about?" he asked. He couldn't believe Gabrielle had just thrown a glass at him. He tried to remember what he had done. She had seemed more than happy with him when he'd left this morning.

"You _bastard!_" she screamed at him.

He stared at her, uncomprehending. "What did I do?" he asked.

"You – I can't believe you! You pose for that stupid magazine and you have the _nerve_ to come in here and pretend like you didn't do anything!"

"Oh, that." Jack had actually forgotten about it. He had meant to give Gabrielle a heads-up so the first she knew of it _wouldn't_ be when the magazine was published, but it had slipped his mind and soon become just one of those things that Deanna did because Deanna was a selfish, manipulative bitch. His heart plummeted. No wonder Gabrielle was pissed. _He_ wouldn't want to see pictures of her playing happy families with someone else, even if he _did_ know that it was just an act. "Look, I swear to you it wasn't what it looked like."

"Yeah? Looked pretty convincing to me. _And_ the whole damn hospital." Which wasn't strictly true, because most of the hospital staff knew Jack's marriage was a joke, but she enjoyed watching Jack's face flash with pain and guilt at hurting her. He _should_ feel pain and guilt.

She was drunk, Jack knew. She didn't drink much – something to do with her ex – and so didn't handle her alcohol well. It was why she was in such an argumentative mood. Well, that, and seeing her lover, along with the rest of the hospital and God knew who else, looking like he was madly in love with his wife. But Jack was irritated that she was taking it so badly. Yeah, he should have told her. But it wasn't like the pictures actually _meant_ anything other than further proof that Deanna was, well, a selfish, manipulative bitch. "You knew this would happen when we started this," he reminded her.

"Yeah, well prior notice would have been nice. Knowing my _married lover_ was playing happy families with his _wife_ would have been nice to learn from someone _other_ than _Bart_."

"I couldn't turn him down! He figured I must have had something to hide if I wasn't interested, and how long do you think it would have taken him to find out about you? I have an obligation to protect you, you know."

"Yeah? You got an obligation to fuck your wife?"

"What? How dare you – no!" he finally blurted out, realising that getting defensive probably wasn't a good idea; actually, the mark of a man trying to turn his infidelity back on his accuser. "You know I can't stand her."

"Didn't look like it to me."

Something snapped inside him and the ongoing stress of the last few months bled out in a rush. He was with her every night he could manage, he risked seeing her when Deanna was in town, he had gone along with that stupid interview to protect her, and she had turned around and accused him of screwing around on her? He took a step towards her, and she took a step back. She soon backed herself against the wall. "Don't touch me!" she yelled at him.

"I love you," he insisted. "Only you."

"Get out! Get your filthy hands off me!" She pounded her fists in his back as he pushed his body weight against her, wedging her between him and the wall. He kissed her hard. For some reason, seeing her this worked up excited him. She must be crazy about him to work herself into a state like this, even with the aid of vodka. He had to be everything to her for her to be so possessive, so jealous of any time he spent with Deanna, even when it was forced against him. "Stop it!" she yelled at him between hard, frantic kisses – kisses that she was responding to despite herself. His hands were roaming freely despite her orders to stop, down her sides, under her shirt. She bucked involuntarily against him when she felt his hands on her bare skin, running over her body as roughly and carelessly as he might handle a piece of meat. "Stop it!"

Ignoring her orders, he picked her up and carried her into the bedroom. He threw her onto the bed and climbed on top of her before she could scramble off it. When she turned her head so her cheek was against the pillow, he cupped her chin roughly and yanked her head back so she was facing him. "Get this through your thick skull," he said in a low, dangerous voice. "I belong to you and you belong to me. You knew exactly what you were getting yourself into so don't you _dare_ turn around and act like a put-upon housewife when I need you."

"Fuck you."

"I believe that's the idea." He responded by kissing her again, muffling her protests and using his considerable skills as a lover until she kissed him back. He took a handful of her shirt in his fist at the neckline, and yanked down so it tore clean through. He went at her like an animal, and she responded in kind, scratching and biting, bucking against his superior weight and strength while moaning with desire at his expert – if somewhat rough – handling. She dug her nails into his back when he worked on her pants, tearing at the buttons, quickly freeing her of the garment. He wedged his hand between her thighs in a gesture to spread her legs. When she didn't, he pushed his fingers inside her, touching her in a way that made her groan and wrap her legs around his waist involuntarily. He fingered her until she was writhing and pushing up against him. Her wantonness, the way her nails were still dug into his back, the way her legs were wrapped around his waist, turned him on something chronic. He wanted her more than he could remember wanting any woman, ever. He wanted to control her. He wanted to _possess_ her.

He fumbled with his pants, yanked them down to his thighs, too worked up to be bothered getting them off entirely. Knowing she was more than ready for her, he plunged into her and began pumping hard and fast, pushing Gabrielle down into the mattress. It was over quickly, and she cried out in ecstasy even as she was pushing against his body, his weight and strength keeping her between him and the mattress.

He rolled off her and she turned over so her back was to his, and it hit Jack what he'd just done. He'd used his superior strength and considerable sexual prowess to bend her to his will. And worse, he'd done it when she was drunk, too drunk to either articulate her 'no's' or launch a co-ordinated attack. Not that she could have if he'd been determined. He knew how strong he was; he took pride in it.

"I'm sorry," he said contritely.

"You've got what you wanted, now leave," she told him in s stiff voice, her back still turned to him. He recognised the stiff way she was holding herself as an attempt not to collapse in tears and horror and guilt gutted him. He'd gotten pissed off and made her do what he wanted to make himself feel better. Had she wanted it? In some ways, yes. Did that make it any less wrong? No.

"Hey," he said softly. He reached over to touch her shoulder, and she flinched. "I'm sorry," he said again.

"You know, Jack," she said, her voice heavy with bitterness, "when we started this, I knew there would be days where I'd feel like your mistress. I knew things like this would happen – I didn't realise how much it would hurt, but I knew it would happen. But I never thought for a second you could make me feel like your _whore_."

He felt sick to his stomach to realise he'd made her feel like that. He tried to hug her, but she pulled away violently, almost falling out of bed. She sat up and reached for her robe, hastily wrapping it around her because for the first time since they had been together, being naked with Jack didn't feel natural and sexy, it felt dirty.

Jack responded to that by sitting up himself and wrapping his arms around her waist. "Don't!" she ordered him. God, she was torn. Now that Jack had sated whatever demon had possessed him to act like that, he was back to his gentle self, and his touch felt _so good_. But only moments before – she knew Jack was under a lot of stress, like to think that her being there helped him relax, but his behaviour, his taking her like that – those were the actions of a man who had been pushed beyond the point of caring who got hurt so long as he was satisfied. "You said you wouldn't make me stay," she reminded him.

Even though he was barely touching her – his arms were around her, but his chest was a few inches from her back – she could feel him trembling in a way that reminded her of the deeply lonely man that she had fallen for. "Please don't leave," he begged her. His thoughts stared to race. He knew most of the problem lay in the clandestine nature of their affair. Love didn't flourish too well when it was limited to stolen nights and the occasional double-date with friends who could be trusted. The stress was getting to both of them; in some ways, it was harder for him now then before they had started seeing each other, and Jack couldn't imagine how much harder it was for Gabrielle, who's life had been completely uncomplicated before he'd entered it. "Why don't we go away for a few weeks," he blurted out. "To the Gold Coast or Bali or something. Just the three of us – or the two of us, if you want."

His offer was beyond anything she had realistically hoped for, and it was realistically the best she was going to get. She knew Jack must be desperate to keep her if he was taking a risk like this. "And how do you think you're going to explain _that_?" she asked. "People are already talking, how do you think it's going to look that we go away at the same time?"

"I don't know," he admitted. "But I'll think of something." He kissed the side of her head and hugged her tighter. She didn't pull away this time. "Think about it. We'll be free to go wherever we like, whenever we like. We can go to dinner and hold hands and get drunk and make asses of ourselves without worrying about letting something slip. It'll be like a honeymoon."

It was the word 'honeymoon' that gabbed Gabrielle. Despite herself, she found herself envisioning long walks along the beach, holding hands, looking to the world like any other couple in love. It was exactly what her heart cried out for – the opportunity to be a real, legitimate couple without all this sneaking around and stolen moments. It wouldn't change anything in the longterm, she knew. He would still be married and still refusing to leave Deanna for at least a few years. But maybe, for the shortterm, it might be enough. "OK," she found herself agreeing.


	8. Chapter 8

The resort Jack had chosen was a beautiful one which had a twenty-four-hour child-minding service so they could spend as much time alone as they wanted and pick up Ella to play happy families whenever they wanted. If Gabrielle had already been harbouring maternal feelings towards the little girl, being able to display her affection openly made her seriously think about what kind of step-mother she would make. It didn't hurt that Jack had checked them in under his own name. _Jack, Gabrielle and Eleanor Quade_. It had a certain ring to it, she thought.

Speaking of rings... Jack had 'inherited' – if that was the right word, because the woman was still alive – a lot of the jewellery the former landlady had accumulated during her own unhappy marriage. Jack had considered Mary to have been more of a mother-figure then his own mother or step-mother, and Mary in turn had considered Jack to be more of a son then her own. She had insisted that Jack keep her jewellery, explaining that they hadn't made for a happy marriage and if he gave them to someone he truly loved, she would get the last laugh on her abusive husband in knowing that they had eventually made someone happy.

And so he had given the ring to Gabrielle. Well, it was more of a loan because they both knew perfectly well she couldn't wear it once they were back in Sydney. Besides, it was an antique, and enough people knew Jack possessed a small fortune in expensive and antique jewellery to start asking even more questions. But for the time being, it gave her a thrill every time she looked at her hand and saw it. It had been a perfect fit, too. She had taken that to be a sign.

For two weeks, she felt every bit the newlywed Jack had promised her she would feel like. It was something he had started as a fantasy, but it was an excellent cover story, because they were so obviously a young couple in love. He wove together a story about their relationship and wedding – it wasn't until then that Gabrielle had realised how much Jack thought about being free to be in a relationship with her and marry her that he had so many fantasies to cobble together into a cover story. She was oddly touched by it. She had never doubted that Jack wanted to be with her in every sense of the word, but she had never dreamed he spent so much time thinking about it.

During the days, they saw the sights, seeing as much as they could in the time they had, and they whiled away the nights in a passion that seemed to grow rather than decrease as they indulged in it. Jack managed to surpass himself as a lover, or maybe it was that being able to be together publicly made them even hungrier for one another. Once they were back in their hotel room, it was only ever a few seconds before they were in bed, or on the couch, or in the shower, going at it as if it was their last time, aware that they _did_ only have so much time.

As the days went by, she found herself more and more wrapped up in the world Jack had created from them. The Gold Coast was only a few hour's drive from Sydney, yet it felt like a world away. Just over a year old now, it was obvious that Ella was going to have her father's aqua-grey eyes and her aunt's blond hair (that Deanna was also a blond had long been forgotten from everyone who had collectively decided that Ella was some kind of immaculate-conception grand-daughter of Carla Rowe), blond hair that was close enough to Gabrielle's own shade that no-one questioned that was where the colour came from. Everyone cooed over what a beautiful family they made and asked questions about if and when they were going to extend that family, questions which made Gabrielle both blush and think about the future...

It came to an end far too soon for both of them. She woke up on the morning of their last day feeling sad that by tomorrow afternoon, they would be back to their separate lives and stolen hours, back to having to hide their relationship and pretend like it didn't matter when Deanna pulled one of her stunts. Just thinking about that damn article made her tense up all over again. The last two weeks with Jack had been wonderful and she was more in love with him then ever, but she knew she couldn't take much more of stuff like that. And she also knew that the further up the food chain Jack progressed, the nastier Deanna would get.

"I wish we didn't have to go back," she said to him, tracing random patterns along his chest with her fingertips. She glanced at the ring on her finger, knowing that in just over twenty-four hours she would have to take it off, and God knew when she would get to wear it again.

He hugged her tightly and kissed her head. "You know I don't want to, either," he said. "But what other option is there? Just take Ella and run?" Remaining hidden wasn't easy to do when you were a rising star of the surgical world. Or when you had a wife who was determined to enjoy being the wife of said rising star.

"I know," she concurred reluctantly. "It's just..."

"Yeah, I know." In a way, this trip away had just made things harder. Now that they knew what it was like to hold hands in public and not have to worry about who saw them, going back to a relationship based on sneaking around was going to be harder than before they had gone away. He kissed the top of her head again, feeling frustrated by his lack of ability to do anything. He had even thought about just chucking away his surgical career – no way could he establish himself anywhere as a surgeon, he would be too easy to locate – and, as he had said, just take Ella and run. But he didn't trust his ability to remain under the radar even without his career making him a target, and besides, what kind of life was that for Ella?

He noticed her admiring the ring he had given her. He had been delighted to see that it had fit perfectly; it had seemed like some kind of good sign. He hated to have to take it back off her when they got back, and was considering letting her keep it. (_That_ would be fun to explain to Mary.) In this whole downer mood of knowing they had to go back tomorrow, he had completely forgotten about his gift. "Hey," he said, pulling himself up into a sitting position. "I got you something." He reached over to his bedside table and retrieved a jewellery box. "It started off life as an engagement ring," he explained to her when he showed her the pendant, a cluster of diamonds and pearls on a titanium band strung onto a white-gold chain. "I had it hammered out into a pendant piece so you could wear it onto a chain. You can say your dad got it for you or something but this way you can wear my ring. Call it... a promise ring."

She held the chain up to the light and admired the way it sparkled. Jack truly did have exquisite taste in jewellery. She wondered how much it cost. "It doesn't matter, you were worth every cent," he said, dismissing her protests that it was too much. He held his hand up for the chain and she handed it to him so he could fasten it around her neck. "Beautiful," he said, referring to both her and the pendant. She toyed with it, feeling the cold metal warm in her fingers. She suddenly felt a lot better knowing, even if no-one else knew it, that she was wearing Jack's ring. And an engagement ring, no less, even though he had called it a promise ring. After all, wasn't that what an engagement ring was, a promise to marry in the future? She beamed, and snuggled into his embrace.

The following day they returned home. They had agreed to both meet at and depart separately from the airport. "I love you," he whispered huskily into her ear at the taxi rank. She could tell from both his voice and the way he was trembling that he was close to tears. "I'll see you again as soon as I can."

"I love you, too," she whispered back. He cupped her chin and brought her head up so he could kiss her, long and deep, until the taxi driver honked his horn in frustration at what he considered to be the couple that fancied themselves a real Romeo and Juliet. He got in the first taxi and she watched him off while waiting for the next one.

* * *

Now that they were back in Sydney, everything was so much more real – and so much more depressing. She fingered the pendant around her neck and it served as a reminder that Jack loved her and wanted to marry her – eventually. She tried not to focus on the fact that 'eventually' was most likely years from now.

They had been together for less than six months. She had no idea how she was going to last several more years. She had no idea how she was supposed to hold on for that long, and no idea how she could walk away from him. She belonged to him and he belonged to her. But it got harder every day to live this kind of life, and she wasn't so naive that she thought they didn't have a breaking point.

As it turned out, the situation resolved itself.

A few weeks after they returned to Sydney, she began to feel sick. She started eliminating foods in her diet at random, figuring it was spoilt food that was upsetting her stomach, despite the fact she had always had an iron-cast stomach. When that failed, she figured she was just suffering a serious cold, or maybe just on a downer from being back in Sydney and only getting to see Jack a few times a week and being able to spend the night with him even less. From the first day they had gotten back, she had sunk into a kind of depression, and taken none of the pleasure in things that she had just weeks before. So that had to be it, she decided.

She didn't want to face the possibility that it wasn't. The reality was too much to face.

Finally, when she couldn't ignore it anymore, she called Jack and left a message on his answering service, telling him it was urgent and to come straight over. He didn't arrive until six hours later. "Where were you?" she asked grumpily.

"I had to make Deanna believe Caitlen and I were doing nothing more then watching DVDs and looking after Ella," Jack replied indignantly, his back up at Gabrielle's tone. She knew there were times he had to cancel at short notice or be late when he had to allay Deanna's suspicions. That he had gone to that effort just to distract her until she went out on a boozy night with her girlfriends – or to spend the night with her boss – was an irony that wasn't lost on either of them. Jack went to a fair effort to hide his relationship with Gabrielle when Deanna was home, while Deanna all but flaunted her own indiscretions in his face. Gabrielle suspected it was some infantile _so there_; _you don't want me, but loads of other men do_. Initially, she had felt sorry for Deanna and her truly twisted logic, but now, she was just irritated. Jack put in far too much effort appeasing his manipulative bitch of a wife, and _she_, Gabrielle, always seemed to be the one paying for it.

"I wanted you," she said, hating the fact she sounded like a petulant child.

"Well, I'm here now. What is it?" It can't have been _that_ urgent, he thought, if she hadn't hit the vodka or dissolved into a river of tears. Jesus, didn't she get that unless it really _was_ a disaster, he couldn't be expected to drop everything, especially not when Deanna was in one of her moods.

There was a hassled tone in his voice that bordered on indifference and Gabrielle literally shrank back at it. Intellectually, she knew that Jack was just having a bad day and probably hadn't wanted to see her for precisely that reason, he had been trying not to take it out on her when Deanna got him down. But to have him acting like this when she needed him to be understanding and supportive... "It doesn't matter," she said.

"You left several messages on my answering machine and I'm here now, so spill," he said. For the first time since he'd gotten here, he really looked at her, and realised she was worried, even _frightened_ about something. "Hey," he said, his tone much more gentle as he approached her. "I'm sorry, it's been a long day and I wasn't expecting to hear from you." He took her in his arms and kissed her forehead. "What's up?"

"Jack..." she whispered nervously.

"Yeah?"

"Jack, I'm pregnant," she blurted out.

Immediately, he pulled away from her and stared at her as if she had told him she had AIDS. "What?" he asked dumbly.

"I'm pregnant."

Jack took a step back from her, his face blank as he tried to process the information. "_Fuck_!" Was the first thing he said in such a vehement tone that she jumped. She had seen Jack angry like that before, of course, but always at Deanna – never at her. Suddenly, his whole demeanour changed. His body tensed in anger and his eyes flashed. "How could you let this happen?" he demanded of her.

Gabrielle had known he would be angry, but she hadn't expected him to be so angry at _her_. "_Me_?" she asked indignantly. "As I recall, _you_ were the one sticking your dick in me a dozen times a week," she said with trademark sarcasm, but with uncommon bitterness.

He scowled at her. "Don't be crass."

"Don't be a jerk."

He looked like he was going to say something else, but shoving his fisted hands into his pockets, he paced over to the window and stared out onto the street. She didn't try to touch him, or even get closer to him. She could see how tense he was as he tried to get a hold of himself. She knew there wasn't much worse news she could give Jack. She was pretty sure he would rather hear that she was leaving him. He was in about as worse a position as you could get to bring a child into the world – already married with a young baby. He was, in fact, in the same position his father had found himself in almost thirty years before. Except his father had been married to a woman who Deanna made look like a saint. "_Shit_," she heard him say from the window. "Shitshit_shit_."

"Jack –" she said tentatively.

He whirled around to face her, taking her in as if searching for signs of her pregnancy. "How far along are you?" he asked.

"About six weeks." From just before or when they had started their holiday. She remembered how they hadn't been able to get enough of each other. She remembered how much they had wanted the feeling of truly being a couple and a family to never end and, rational though she was, had a superstitious thought that their desires for that reality had been so intense that they had bled into reality, into their constant and passionate lovemaking, to create the family they both wanted.

Except in the harsh light of reality this was the last thing either of them needed or wanted.

Jack groaned, walked over to the couch and slumped down in it. He rubbed his eyes as if this was just a bad dream that he would wake up from if he rubbed hard enough. After a long and deafening silence, he asked, "Have you decided what you're going to do?" As selfish as it was, he wished she had just gotten rid of it and not told him. Then he wouldn't have to deal with the fact that he was married to a shrew who wouldn't let him go without a fight and now had to deal with his pregnant mistress, a woman who had never done anything to deserve this kind of treatment. _Shit_.

"No. I wanted to talk to you first."

The words weren't out of her mouth before Jack was looking at her guardedly. He had a sinking feeling what that meant. "It's not my choice," he said stiffly, knowing full well that he wasn't getting out of it that easily.

She sat down next to him. "I want this baby," she blurted out. "Jack, d'you have any idea how much I've thought about us having a family of our own?" she asked.

"Yeah," he said gruffly, suspecting it was about as many times as he had thought of the exact same thing. Even now, he was thinking about it. Gabrielle would make an amazing mum, he knew – just from the way she handled Ella and the children who came into the ward. And being a parent with Gabrielle would be a totally different experience to being a parent with Deanna. So easily he could see the three – well, four – of them out together. Ella would be two when the new baby was born, the perfect age to be an older sibling...

He shook his head as if to physically shake the images from his brain. Whatever uneasy truce he had with Deanna would be shattered when she found out about this. And she would find out about this. Unless he could keep it incredible quiet. Already his brain was racing with thoughts on how a person went about something like this. Stella had certainly known about him, not until his mum had dropped him on his father and step-mother's doorstep. It wouldn't be as easy, of course, because no-one in his parent's circles had known of the other's existence whereas people were already talking about him and Gabrielle. But –

He stopped those thoughts dead when he realised he was planning how to raise his bastard kid in secrecy. Lousy enough to subject Gabrielle to this kind of thing, let alone to foist it onto a kid.

Gabrielle took Jack's silence – although she knew from that look on his face that his thoughts were going a mile a minute – to blurt out her thoughts before the words abandoned her. "I want this baby," she said. "I want to have a baby with you. And I don't even care if we're not married." Although what her father would say to that, she didn't care to think about.

She paused. Jack flinched, because he knew exactly what was coming, and he couldn't blame her. "But I can't bring a child into the world when they're dad's already married. If I was already against it before I met you, then seeing what you went through just made me more convinced of how wrong it would be." And then there was Deanna. Stella might have hated Jack with a passion, but the woman at least had a decent grasp on reality. Whereas Deanna... Gabrielle shivered to think of Deanna as step-mother to her child. No, she couldn't do that to someone. She couldn't bring a child into the world knowing that would be the situation – growing up knowing you were a married man's bastard child, having a step-mother like Deanna. Who knew what kind of abuses they would be exposed to, even with Gabrielle doing her best to protect them. She loved Jack, but she knew what horrors he had gone through, and he knew a large part of what had made him vulnerable to that was the way he had been brought up. She wouldn't put anyone else through that.

"So what are you saying?" Jack asked, knowing full well what she was saying.

"I want you to divorce Deanna."

"No."

"Then I'll have a termination."

She shivered when he flashed his eyes at her and tried not to tell herself that he wasn't angry at her personally, it was just something that was hard-wired into his brain. He had been raised on a diet of opinions that everyone would have been much better off had Carla aborted rather than hung on hoping Ned really would divorce Stella. While he intellectually got that abortion was a woman's right and _only_ the woman's choice, emotionally he found it repulsive. For him, the better of two evils was for Gabrielle to have the child, just as for her the better was to have an abortion. "You do that and we're through," he snarled.

"I realise that, Jack."

"You're asking me to jeopardise my relationship with Ella," he pointed out.

"And _you're_ asking _me_ to bring my child into a world where they'll be ridiculed and despised," Gabrielle countered. "I know what you went through, Jack. You really want to put your kid through that?"

"It would be different," he insisted.

"No, it wouldn't," she replied. Oh, for sure, she knew Jack would love them much more then Ned had ever him, would do his best to protect them – but how much did he think he could do? Did he really think he could stop people talking, or stop Deanna exacting her revenge at every opportunity?

Jack seemed to sense her thoughts, before all of a sudden, his stubbornly hopeful look evaporated. "I guess not," he admitted sadly. He brought his knees up against his chest and wrapped his arms around him. He looked so lost, and her heart went out to him. She wished she could give him what he wanted without having to lose so much of herself in the process. "So where do we go from here?" he asked. "How much time do I have to think about it?"

"A few weeks, at least," she said. She hadn't really thought about it beyond issuing Jack an ultimatum. But she could easily hide it until at least four months, maybe even longer.

Jack nodded slightly, the information sinking in. He simultaneously struggled to comprehend the two crappy solutions he had to choose from while cursing himself for not being careful. You'd think he would have goddamn learnt by now to use a condom. "OK," he said flatly. There didn't seem anything else to be said, so he got up. "I'll, uh, call you soon," he said vaguely, making a quick exit and leaving Gabrielle feeling abandoned.

He drove home with his emotions in such a whirl it felt like his body was being torn apart. Leave Deanna and have her go through with her promise to take Ella from him, or stay with her and have Gabrielle go through with her promise to have an abortion. And to lose Gabrielle in the process as well, because he knew he could never look at her again knowing she had killed his child. What the hell kind of choice was _that_? Both were abhorrent to him.

Just to make his day even worse, Deanna was home when he got home. "What happened?" he jeered, reverting to his snarky self as soon as he saw her. "Boyfriend dump you?" Deanna glowered, and Jack got a smidgen of satisfaction that he had hit a nerve. He had long suspected that she was sleeping with her boss and that was what all the 'business trips' were about. "What, he wasn't interested in a thirty-year-old?" he asked sweetly, taking even more pleasure out of the way she flinched. "Yeah, I looked up a few things are we broke up. You told me you were twenty-five when you were twenty-eight. I really don't know why you bothered. Hell, I might have been even more interested in you. You know I prefer older women." Well, preferred at least. But despite all her country-ness, Gabrielle had a maturity to her that few women ever achieved. "But now you're competing with eighteen-year-olds. God, no wonder you hate Caitlen so much. If I had nothing to recommend for me but my looks and I was losing them, _I'd_ hate a gorgeous eighteen-year-old, too."

"Fuck you!" she screamed at him.

"No thanks. You forget, I have a gorgeous eighteen-year-old nanny," he taunted, enjoying watching Deanna unravel. He had never cared enough to be so vicious, but in the state of mind he currently was in, he wanted to lash out at the person who had ultimately put him in this position, to hurt her deeply. He wanted to tear her to pieces and watch her crumble.

She ran straight at him, and he disabled her easily, grabbing her wrists and twisting her around so her back was against his chest and her wrists pinned tightly between them. "For someone who put so much work into trapping me, you're pretty fucking stupid," he taunted. "I hate you and now you have nothing to recommend for you but fading looks and a mountain of debt."

"Let me go!" she screamed at him. He let her go and she stumbled to the ground. "You'll pay for this!" she threatened.

"Yeah? With what? You take Ella and you lose everything. You think Caroline Craig will have you over for coffee if you're not married to me? You're just as stuck as I am. So think of something else or shut your fucking mouth." Burning with fury, he stormed to his room and needed several strong bourbons before he was calm.

He lay in bed for several hours, the alcohol making him drowsy but not sleepy enough to fall asleep. Or maybe that was just his thoughts churning around in his head. Gabrielle. Deanna. Ella. His unborn child. Thinking of Deanna, he took vicious pleasure in reliving her crumbling face when he had called her on her age and her decreasing desirability. She had to be aware of the same thing he had long ago worked out; that she could only hold Ella over him until Ella was old enough to tell a judge what she wanted, and when that happened, he would dump her without a cent in settlement because on paper, he was broke. She would probably just incur more debts hiring lawyers. And by that point she would be closer to thirty-five. Jack laughed maliciously into the dark room at that thought. Years of hard-living were showing on her face – she had never let him see her without makeup when they had been dating, and he understood now that years of heavy drinking and partying had made her look older than thirty, or the twenty-eight she had been at the time. By the time she was thirty-five, she would look forty. Jack would take a lot of pleasure in throwing her out of the house without a cent to her name and little chance to land a decent relationship.

And then it hit him, how to get out of this mess.

* * *

Gabrielle was concerned when Jack called her after just a week. She had known from the start that if Jack saw no way out of his marriage without jeopardising his relationship with Ella, he would accept her decision to terminate. Even for someone as anti-abortion as Jack was, if he had to choose between a foetus and a living child which he had bonded with for over a year, well, it was clear what his choice would be. Her only hope lay in him finding a way out of his marriage with custody of Ella. And that he had called after just a week – well, even Jack needed more time then that, which told Gabrielle he had decided to end their relationship.

"Hi," he said shyly when he saw her. "Come in." He was clearly nervous and he led her into his house – a place she had spent so much time in – as if he were a teenager leading his girlfriend in to meet his parents. "Sit down," he said, directing her to the table in the living area that was 'his'. She sat, and he sat at the other side, where he had already laid out a few things. "Here," he said, pushing them in her direction.

It was a small box on top of a pile of papers. She looked at the papers first. "Jack, what are these?" she asked.

"I believe it's fairly obvious," Jack said dryly. "They're divorce paper. It will take a while – I'm sorry, we have to be legally separated for at least a year, you won't be able to hide it." he admitted apologetically. But she had known that when she had given him the ultimatum, and he knew she had known that. It was just enough that it was only a year or two that they had to go through before they could start their life together. She was thinking more long-term then the embarrassment of her pregnancy. "But it will be done."

"Jack – I don't understand. I mean – this is what I wanted but – Deanna will never agree."

"Deanna is thirty and deep in debt. She'll agree to the tune of eight hundred. Less, if I can get away with it."

She looked at him, puzzled. "Jack, where did you get eights hundred grand from?" she asked.

"I spoke to my accountant and the bank. I own most of this place so I can get easily that on it, with what I have in savings. "

She realised that he had actually made up his mind several days ago and had spent the time working out exactly what money he had to offer to Deanna. He was willing to mortgage this place to the hilt if that was what he took. "I can get at least two hundred," she blurted out, quickly thinking. "Offer her a cool mil, if it comes to it."

Jacked gaped at her. "Where did you come up with two hundred grand?" he asked.

Gabrielle explained that while her brother was set to inherit the farm, her father her cashed-out what he could to see her own her own home in Sydney. While it wasn't fair that the oldest male inherited the farm in its entirety, Gabrielle was from a tradition of farming long enough to appreciate that you couldn't keep splitting a farm between siblings; within a few generations you ended up with a bunch of inefficient hobby farms. It didn't matter that she was the oldest, the farm went intact to Ben as the oldest male. She'd been better off than a lot of girls in farming family in that her parents hadn't seen it as fair that Ben got the lot while Gabrielle ended up with nothing, so Russell had sold off what he could without jeopardising the farm's income-producing ability to give Gabrielle a significant down payment on her house. A good half of it, in fact. While her house's collateral was nowhere near the eight hundred thousand dollars Jack could dip into, it was still something significant.

"I can't ask you to do that."

"You're not asking, I'm offering. Jack, I want her out of your life – _our_ lives – almost as much as you do. If that's what it takes, then i consider it a fair trade."

Not for the first time was Jack struck by her generosity and willingness to help him out. He reached over and took her hands in his, squeezing them. "Thankyou," he whispered gratefully. "You've got to let me pay you back, though."

"If you insist." After all, once they were married, 'his' and 'hers' would be 'theirs'. She shivered with delight at the thought. _Married!_ Oh, she knew it was a long way off but still...

"I do," he said. He gestured towards the box. "Open it," he instructed.

She did. Inside was a ring even more beautiful than the one he had commissioned to be made into a pendant – the pendant she currently wore around her neck. It was a diamond-and-emerald engagement ring set in a silver band. It looked old and expensive. "Jack, I can't accept this," she breathed. "It's too expensive. You've already given me a ring."

He waved away her objections. "I can't have it remade into a ring, the joint will show," he pointed out. "And... I want you to have this. _Mary_ would have wanted you to have it. She would have really liked you – you would have liked her. You're exactly the kind of person she wanted me to marry." Kind, generous, loyal, with an instinctive knack for what made him feel loved and safe.

"OK," she said, suddenly feeling very shy. Her throat felt dry and her stomach felt like it was doing a complicated gymnastics routine. For a few seconds, she just sat there with the box in her hand until Jack got up and moved to her side of the table. He took the box out of her hand and dropped to one knee.

"I'm asking you to marry me," he said. "I know it's not great circumstances, I know they're absolutely miserable circumstances, but I want to marry you. It would make everything so much easier to get through if I knew at the end of it –"He stopped, realising how selfish he sounded, thinking only of how _he_ fared through this situation. He had almost lost her thinking only of himself. "Sorry," he said sheepishly. "I'll ask you again after if you want."

"No!" she finally found the words – or word – and spoke them so vehemently that Jack was startled. "I mean – yes, yes I'll marry you," she whispered. She held out her hand so Jack could slide the ring on her finger. It was a perfect fit, just like the wedding ring he had loaned her had been. It seemed like a sign.

He leaned in to kiss her. It had been intended as a short kiss, but in the heat of the moment, neither of them found they could stop. "Why don't you stay the night?" he suggested huskily when they finally drew apart. "It's about time you did."

She nodded, her eyes sparkling He got up and lifted her easily out of her chair, swinging her into his arms. She pressed her cheek against his chest, feeling his heart beat and the muscles shirt from the effort of carrying her upstairs. It would be a long time before Jack would be able to do this as her husband, but it still felt insanely right.

He carried her upstairs, through the entertaining area and into his bedroom. He laid her down as gentle as he could, given how hot for her he was. It had been a week, and they were a couple who struggled to keep their hands off each other at work. And then there was the fact she was pregnant – it wasn't something he had thought about before, with Charlotte it had been a drunken one-nighter with someone he hadn't been hugely attracted to and with Deanna, by the time he had found out, he had been so disgusted by her that he never voluntarily touch her. But here with Gabrielle – he ran his hands down her front and under her shirt, pressing his fingers against her stomach. She giggled at his boyish, if medically unsound enthusiasm. "You know you can't feel anything," she protested.

"I know. But he's going to be an early developer," Jack predicted.

"_He_?"

"Yeah," he insisted with a grin. "Boys run in my family. My dad had three boys – " that he knew of, at least " – and my mum and a boy and a girl and your – "

"Jack, just shut and do what you're supposed to be doing," Gabrielle interrupted him.

Obediently, Jack slid his hands up the inside of her shirt. They went over the material of her bra, caressing her breasts through the lacy material, taking his time, enjoying making her sigh with pleasure. It had been too long, and he decided never to let it go this long between them again. But, he thought happily, that wouldn't be an issue anymore. He had set his mind to something, and he wasn't going to change course now. He lifted her shirt completely over her head and started kissing down her neck, collarbone and chest, taking particular time where her breasts swelled above the confines of the garment. Gabrielle ran her fingers through his hair with increasingly frantic movements, then moved her hands down his back, pulling his shirt up and over his head like he had done to her, running her hands the length of his bare back and getting a particular kick out of hearing him moan with pleasure...

... Deanna let herself in, scowling when she realised Jack or Caitlen had someone over. It had been a tough week now that her boss was no longer interested in her, and she had no desire to have her house – no matter what Jack said, it was still her house as much as it was his – filled with strangers. Or worse, allies of Jack of Caitlen's.

The house seemed to be empty. If Jack was home, he was upstairs in the area he had taken great pains to sound-proof after her crashing around drunk late at night had kept him awake one too many times. She scowled at that, too. If Jack would only be more of a husband, she wouldn't be coming home late at night drunk.

The last week, she had been filled with bitterness at what Jack had said to her about her age. It wasn't true, she was still an attractive woman – but she knew she couldn't compete with someone like Caitlen. She could never have competed with someone like Caitlen, even if they were both eighteen, but Caitlen was eighteen and _she... was... thirty_. She had known that, watched the days slip by knowing the milestone was coming closer and closer, ever more agitated over it, but Jack's words had cut straight through to her fragile ego like a hot knife through butter.

She spotted the papers Jack had left on the table, along with what looked like a ring box. Her scowl deepened. She assumed Ben was up to something. Bitterness flowed through her to think of the disgustingly-in-love young couple. It wasn't fair that they got to be so happy while she couldn't barely make her husband look at her, let alone with any affection.

She walked over and picked them up. The blood immediately drained from her face. Jack had filed for legal separation. She picked up the box. Two years ago now, she had talked her way into the security deposit box Jack kept at the bank, wanting to know exactly what kind of stash he had inherited from both Mary and his mother. She recognised the plain leather box; it was the kind the used when the jewellery was so old the original box had long since been lost. It was the kind they used for expensive antique jewellery.

The bank manager had found out she had accessed Jack's box without his permission, but she had seen enough that she could take a guess as to what had been in this box. The exquisite emerald-and-diamond engagement ring that she had lusted after the second she had seen it. The same ring Jack had no intention of ever letting her _see_, let along _wear_.

And now he had taken it from the bank and given it to someone else. She tried to remember who drove that sort of car, and then she remembered something. No-one Jack knew could be bothered with the upkeep of an old all-wheel drive – other than a particular woman who had been brought up on a farm.

Anger coursed through her, and she made her way for the stairs that led to the second floor, something she hadn't dared do since their wedding night. As soon as she opened the door to the entertaining area that adjoined the master bedroom, she was met with the sounds of grunting and groaning that she was all-too-familiar with, she had participated in such activities enough after Jack had made it clear he had no interest in her.

Resolutely, she made her way to the door of Jack's bedroom and flung it open. For a second, she stood transfixed, watching the way the muscles in his back rippled in response to his frantic movements. He had always been deceptively well-built, and she used to love watching him undress. She used to love running her hands the length of his back the way _she_ was doing now, used to love tangling her legs up in his and feel his weight pushing down on her, so strong and masculine, like she was sure _she_ was doing now.

She grabbed a picture frame – ironically, it contained a copy of the same one of Jack and Rebecca that Deanna had destroyed on their wedding night – and threw it at the bed. It hit the wall with a smash and slid down onto the floor, startling Jack and Gabrielle out of their tryst. "You _slut_," Deanna hissed, heading straight for Gabrielle, arm raised in fury.

Jack reacted swiftly, putting his body between Gabrielle and Deanna before Deanna could do anything. Gabrielle brought the sheet up tightly under her chin and quivered in fear. She thought Deanna was only getting what she deserved – not even that – but there had always been a viciousness there that had frightened her just to witness. And now that it was directed squarely at _her_... "You lay a finger on her and you'll find out just how hard I can hit," Jack threatened, wondering how suspicious it would look to the police if Deanna 'accidentally' took a neck-breaking tumble down the stairs after walking in on her husband and his mistress. _Yeah, too much risk_.

Keeping a steady eye on Deanna – he didn't doubt that she would lurch for Gabrielle should he give her half a second's opportunity – Jack threw his shirt back on and, grabbing Deanna's arm, marched her down the stairs, careful to keep her in front of him. He wouldn't put it past her to send _him_ down the stairs. She must have found the papers – damn, but if he had known she would come home, he would have disposed of them, although he still would have been caught with Gabrielle – and realised by now what his intentions were. He was sure she figured being the widow of a rising surgeon was a better option then being the dumped wife of one.

He thrust her into a chair and sat opposite her. "I wouldn't bother," he told her when she grabbed the papers in the middle in a motion to tear them in half. "That's just a copy. I've already filed the document."

"Fuck you."

"I want a divorce."

"I'll take Ella from you."

She was so used to this threat working that she almost had a heart attack when she saw him react calmly to her words. "You can do that," he said slowly, as if he had thought this through for some time – which he had. "And you can take me to court and get jack shit from me in either a settlement or child support. I'm broke, remember?" he reminded her with a smug grin. Thankgod he had had the foresight to get that trust created. "Then you can find out just what fun it is to be a single mother who's been blacklisted from half the places in the state which will employ her in her chosen profession. _Then_ you can find out how much fun it is to have DOCS constantly on your case. How long do you think it will be, Deanna, before you slip up and leave her alone again? How long before DOCS gives me custody free and clear?"

Deanna squirmed in her seat. She had counted on Jack been too scared of losing Ella to think about what his chances were of taking her through the courts. And everything he said was true. He had nothing for a court to award her, either in a settlement or in child support. The best she could hope for was getting limited access to the trust Jack had set up as Ella's custodial parent – and even then, she was sure Jack would be true to his word and make sure she did everything by the book. She paled at being the kind of parent that DOCS wouldn't harass – the idea of giving up her social life to take care of a child was utterly beyond her comprehension.

Still, she said nothing, waiting for Jack to make his move. It was obvious now that there had been something going on between him and Gabrielle for sometime now. There had to be a reason he was filing for separation now. There had to be a desperation driving him. Perhaps the slut was just bright enough to realise that passion didn't last forever, and she had to strike while the iron was hot, and Jack in turn was desperate not to lose her. Deanna's bottom lip curled in disgust. Gabrielle was such a plain little thing, and Deanna bet she had _no_ moves in the bedroom. What Jack saw in her was beyond her... especially when he had a wife who could be gracious and charming when the situation called for it. _Why_ would he want Gabrielle over her?

She was so busy pondering that question that she almost missed Jack's offer. "I'll give you two hundred and fifty thousand," he said softly.

"What?" she asked, startled out of her thoughts because it was ,after all, a lot of money. Much more then he had offered her before their marriage.

"Two hundred and fifty thousand dollars," he repeated. "A quarter million to give me Ella and go away. That's at least five times what you were making when I met you, and like ten what you were making playing secretary." Not counting whatever bonuses she got playing more than secretary to the boss. Christ, what a cliché. "And I'll even pay the tax... and I've leased you a place for a year."

She scowled. She bet it wasn't nearly as nice as this place. "It's an apartment in the city," he admitted. He had known Deanna wouldn't settle anywhere that wasn't 'nice' – and she had a higher standard of 'nice' than most people – but it was still something few people would sniff at, especially when someone else was paying the rent.

She pretended to think about it. She knew how much this place was worth and knew a quarter mill was a cop-out. "Half," she immediately bargained. "This place is worth at least three times that."

He shook his head, bluffing. "Real estate prices aren't what they used to be, and besides, I have a massive mortgage on this place." Both of which were lies. Property on Sydney's coast was the Australian equivalent to property in New York's Manhattan; it _never_ went down in value. But even if Deanna knew that to be a lie, she wouldn't know that he had a very small mortgage on this house thanks to his mother's somewhat unique ways of getting the mortgage paid. "Three hundred," he negotiated. The less he got rid of her for, the better.

The eventually agreed on four hundred thousand. Jack was relieved that it was only half what he had initially allowed, and he wouldn't have to use any of Gabrielle's resources. He appreciated the gesture, but there was something totally wrong with using your mistress's money to held pay your wife off. "So you're leaving me?" Deanna asked, as if the reality had suddenly hit her.

Jack was surprised – and grateful – that she had given in so easily. He should have done this in the first place. But then, neither of them had known just how miserable the marriage would be. "I left you two years ago," he reminded her softly.

"Why now?" she asked, her voice suddenly sharp. "Well, this has obviously been going on a while," she guessed correctly when Jack looked at her quizzically. "Why now?"

There was no point in hiding it. They needed to be legally separated for at least a year before a divorce would be granted; his child with Gabrielle would have be born in half that time. It was an insult to Deanna's intelligence to think she wouldn't work it out. "She's pregnant," he admitted.

Deanna laughed her typical vicious laugh again. "Don't tell me you fell into the same trap all over again," she said. "When are you going to stop thinking with your dick and start using a condom?"

"This isn't a trap, Deanna," Jack said in a voice that made Deanna want to scratch his eyes out – or better yet, Gabrielle's. Like hell it wasn't a trap; Gabrielle was just doing the same thing Deanna had done, only more sophisticated.

"What did she do, tell you she understands if you don't want to marry her but she doesn't want you being married to someone else?" Deanna asked, and laughed again when the look Jack gave her said that was exactly what Gabrielle had done. Well, it had certainly worked for Gabrielle; the papers already filed and the ring on her finger – and Jack thinking it was all his idea, no doubt. _You think you won_, Deanna told her rival silently. _But only this battle. You haven't won the war_.

"I'd appreciate it if you stayed somewhere else," Jack's words interrupted Deanna's plans of evening the score. "The lease doesn't start until next week so... go stay in a hotel or something. I'll pick up the tab." It was the most generous he had been in months and months, and Deanna hated Gabrielle even more for it, because she knew that he had feelings for her and his relief at getting rid of Deanna were the reason for his generosity.

Because there wasn't much else she could do, she got to her feet, packed a small bag and left. Jack watched her the whole time, and she hated him for it. But she hated Gabrielle even more. "Thankyou," she heard him quietly say as she left without a fuss.

Inwardly, she was full of rage. She had _known_ that little sneak had her eyes on Jack but foolishly, she had thought Jack had too much honour to do anything about it. And now she had gotten herself knocked up, no doubt intentionally, and had used it to make Jack leave Deanna. That little witch with her plain-Jane looks and country mannerisms had actually managed to outflank her, Deanna Richardson – no, Deanna _Quade_.

Being reminded of her married name reinforced Deanna's desire to put Gabrielle in her place. She was, after all, just a little country mouse who had somehow lucked into making Jack fall in lust with her. It was nothing more than that. But Gabrielle had played the same card Deanna had played; a child that he wanted so much, enough to risk Deanna taking his first-born from him. Enough to make him realise _Deanna_ wouldn't take Ella from him, not when it meant being a single mother with few decent job prospects. Gabrielle meant enough for him to call Deanna on her bluff and do whatever it took to get rid of her.

She didn't want the money. Well, she did, but she _liked_ being a surgeon's wife. She _liked_ being in the confidence of women like Caroline Craig. What she wanted was to be Jack's wife in both name and reality. She wanted what he was intending to have with Gabrielle.

She gritted her teeth. _Gabrielle would not have him_. Gabrielle should have known better than to go after a married man. She wondered how long the affair had been going on. A year, more? Since before they had been married? Deanna remembered catching them at Cougars they night she had announced her pregnancy. They had looked pretty cosy then. Had they already been sleeping together?

_Stupid girl_, Deanna thought viciously. She stomped on the accelerator, wishing it was Gabrielle's slutty head. _Everyone knows you don't get anything out of sleeping with married men_. She herself had learnt that the hard way. Well, Gabrielle was about to learn that, too.

She smiled to herself, a vicious, crafty smile. Gabrielle would get what was coming to her. And that was definitely _not_ being Mrs. Jack Quade #2.

Jack made his way back upstairs, to where Gabrielle was sitting primly on the bed, fully dressed, still looking terrified. "She's gone," he said.

"Did she agree?" Gabrielle asked in a small voice, more terrified of the answer than she had been of Deanna's threatened violence.

Jack nodded. "Four hundred grand, plus taxes, plus a lease for an apartment in the city for a year," he said. It was a high price for a woman who had given him nothing but misery for the past few years, but it was a price Jack was more than willing to pay. "She's moved out. She's staying at a hotel until the lease starts."

For a second, Gabrielle stared at Jack, letting the news sink in. Then she jumped up and ran into his arms. He lifted her up and she wrapped her legs around his waist. He mashed his mouth against hers and kissed her deeply. "I love you," he breathed heavily between kisses. "Love you so much."

He walked to the bed and dumped her on it, going back to what they had started before. "We are going to spend the rest of our lives together," he promised her. Somehow, it seemed so much more real now that Deanna had agreed to it.

Their mutual excitement and relief fed their hunger, and within minutes they were naked. He knew without being told that she wanted him as much as he wanted her, and he plunged deep inside her. She raised her hips to meet his and dug her fingers into the small of his back, drawing him as close to her as was humanly possible. He pumped her hard, urged on by her screams and promises that he couldn't hurt the baby until they climaxed together and he rolled off her, both their bodies slick with sweat.

They lay together in companionable quiet for a few minutes before Jack reluctantly broke the silence by asking, "Are you sure you want to do this?"

She looked at him quizzically. "Jack, of course I'm sure. You think I haven't thought about this?"

He stroked her face. "It's selfish of me to want you to keep the baby," he admitted. "I have to be separated for at least a year before I can get a divorce - the baby will be born long before that. People will know why I left Deanna. People will talk about you. She'll be the hard-done-by wife and you'll be the... _mistress_."

"_Whore_, you mean?" she asked quietly. Jack nodded. It was a word they were both reluctant to use but a reality they both needed to face. Thanks to _The Scene_ piece, Jack's profile was high enough that his separation would make the news – and Deanna was sure to milk it for all it was worth, playing the 'wife abandoned for mistress' card. If he had thought it would do any good, he would have paid her more to keep her trap shut... but that would only stop her from talking to the media, not holding court with _other _surgeon's wives who knew all too well the threat other women held to their marriages... or stop the media making up whatever the hell they wanted. And leaving a wife and mother of his younger daughter for his pregnant mistress was far too big a scandal for the trashier local papers _not_ to make a big story out of it.

"I've thought about it, Jack," Gabrielle said. Lord, how she had thought about it. Richard Craig's example was proof that married men could sleep around all they wanted – it was the women they slept _with_ who got called sluts and whores. "And... I know it's going to be tough but I want to be with you."

He kissed her. "You know I'll do what I can to protect you?" he asked. She nodded, even though they both knew that wouldn't be much. Leaving a wife for a mistress was too good a piece of gossip to let go; leaving a newlywed wife and the mother of their young child was even bigger. Gabrielle would be scrutinised constantly, wondering what Jack saw in her to do such a thing – and invariable come up short. The only thing to do was ride it out. Five years from now, no-one would care.

"Why don't you move in?" Jack asked casually shortly after.

"What? Why?" Gabrielle asked in surprise.

"Well... it's not really going to hurt your reputation much more in the long run. And Deanna's moved out. And... I want you with me all the time. I'm sick of only getting to spend a few hours with you and having to go home afterwards. I want you to live with me. Besides," he added, with typical rueful humour. "I have to prove the marriage has broken down irretrievably, and what better way than having installed my mistress the same day I threw my wife out?"

Gabrielle swatted him playfully. "Jack, that's crass," she said.

He drew her close to him. "I didn't mean it," he said seriously. "But I did mean it about having you live with me. Everytime I had to go home, I wanted to stay with you. I want to wake up with you each morning. Even if I have to leave early, I want to wake up in the middle of the night and feel you next to me. I never want to have to leave you again."

Gabrielle looked at Jack with love. She had known Jack felt about her that way, but he had never put it into words, so of course it hadn't meant the same thing. "Of course I'll move in with you," she said.

Two days later, she was cooking in the kitchen, preparing dinner for Jack and her, when she heard the front door open. She rushed to the entrance, calling Jack's name. Yesterday he had wrangled a long lunch break where he'd come home to spend a few hours with Gabrielle in bed. She had been hoping he might do the same today.

She stopped dead in her tracks when she saw Deanna there. Every cell in her body cried out to tell the older woman to get out. She bit down on her lip. She was still legally Jack's wife and she had far more right to be here – at least in the eyes of the law – then Gabrielle did. "Forget something?" she asked, as pleasantly as she could manage.

"Yeah, I forgot to make a point – Jack is _my_ husband, the father of _my_ child, not yours, so you just toddle back to whatever hick town you came from and forget this all ever happened."

Gabrielle figured she should have known Deanna wouldn't go without a fight; what in the last two years had made her think Deanna would settle for anything less than both the money _and_ Jack? "I'm not going to do that, Deanna. You know how he feels about you. Why don't you just take the money and go? You'd be much happier with it and without a baby to drag you down."

"Yeah, 'cos you can't _wait_ to tell everyone you make a much better step-mother than I ever did a mother," Deanna snarled. She eyed Gabrielle bitterly. Too tall, too stocky, too plain. What did Jack see in her? "I'm telling you one last time to fuck off."

"Go to hell," Gabrielle snarled back in return for Deanna's own language.

She blanched when Deanna removed a gun from its concealed position and aimed it right at Gabrielle. "I gave you the choice," she said calmly. "You were too stupid to take it. So now I'm going to make the choice for you. You are going to write Jack a note telling him you can't possibly come between him and his family."

"Don't be ridiculous, Deanna, I _am_ his family now. This won't get you anywhere. You really think he'll take you back if I go? He's made up his mind. He wants you out."

Deanna waved the gun in Gabrielle's face in a way that frightened Gabrielle deeply. She looked like she had gone off the deep end. "He only wants me out because of _you!_" she screamed. "You – did – _something_ to him that made him so blind he doesn't know what he's giving up!"

_And what's that?_ Gabrielle asked herself silently. _A miserable marriage to a woman he hates?_ Inwardly, she started thinking. She wondered if Deanna had been drinking; she certainly didn't smell like it. Gabrielle wasn't to realise that the harsh words Jack had said to her, combined with the news of the separation had further loosened her grip on sanity. To Deanna, Gabrielle was the sole cause of Jack wanting out of the marriage. In Deanna's mind, it had been a perfect marriage – or would have been, had it not been for Gabrielle's interference. Gabrielle at Cougars the night she had gone to tell Jack the joyous news... Gabrielle being the first of his colleagues to come by to see his new daughter... Gabrielle being always there, always willing to lend a helping hand, a friendly ear, a bed to share...

Deanna's grip tightened on the gun. "Write," she said. She knew Jack kept pens and paper in the kitchen drawer. She made her way around Gabrielle, refusing to let the younger woman within a meter of the lethal kitchen knives he kept in the same vicinity. She rummaged for stationary, all the while keeping a steady eye on Gabrielle. She tossed the pen and paper to her, and began dictating a letter. "_WRITE!_" she screamed when Gabrielle stood stock-still.

Gabrielle picked up the pen and began writing.

_Dear Jack,_

_I've given this a lot of reflection and I realise now that taking a married man from his wife is a mortal sin. I don't want to live with being an adulteress on my conscience. I have gone home to seek absolution. Please don't try to contact me_.

_Gabrielle_.

It was on the tip of Gabrielle's tongue to tell Deanna that the words sounded like nothing she would say. And what the hell was absolution? Something to do with a toilet block? Then she realised that if they did nothing at all, they might help Jack twig to the fact that the words were nothing that Gabrielle would say. She pushed the paper in front of Deanna. "There," she said. "Happy?"

Deanna answered her by clubbing her unconscious with the gun.

* * *

In human nature, someone would always have a source that was slightly better and slightly faster than anyone else's source. In this case, Heath had a friend who worked with the Family Law Courts who had called him to let him know "You know that woman your girlfriend hates? Well, her husband filed for legal separation." From then on, it was all systems go, as far as the gossip vine was concerned. Deanna had pissed off too many people too many times that a lot of people weren't about to celebrate. Frank, had he been in the ward at the time, would have bought everyone a round of drinks to celebrate.

As it was, Frank was on his day off. And Gabrielle was a no-show. And Zoe was running late. All these things led to Charlotte running the ward single-handedly, and when she soon realised she couldn't, she pretty much let the staff run amok. So when Zoe arrived. She arrived to a staff who would rather gossip about Jack's separation and what had finally caused him to have had enough of Deanna than work. Even Cate and Heath were in on it. Since they had gotten together a month ago, Heath had learnt to his detriment that it didn't matter if Cate was in a relationship or not, it only mattered that Cate was someone Jack cared about, therefore, Cate was the enemy, as far as Deanna was concerned. He had felt the sharp edge of Deanna's vicious tongue; he was just as happy as Bart, Dan and Erica to discuss – aka, gossip about – the separation.

"What's going on here?" she asked when she saw a group of them bunched around staffbase, gossiping.

"Jack finally separated from Deanna," Cate crowed gleefully. She and Deanna had disliked each other from day one; Cate had long since learnt it was because Deanna disliked anyone that Jack was fond of. Well, she had always known there was only so far you could push Jack. _Good for him_, she thought.

Zoe was taken aback by the knowledge. She knew that Jack was in a position to leave Deanna for at least another three years. She could only assume that Gabrielle had forced his hand. And since Jack had entered this marriage because he had wanted a baby so much, the only thing that could force his hand was...

"Where's Gabrielle?" she asked, suddenly aware that Dan and Erica was idling around, seemingly without a boss.

Dan shrugged. "She didn't turn up. We tried calling her, but – "

Zoe started to put two and two together. Gabrielle had to be pregnant. That was the only thing that would make Jack leave Deanna. And Deanna, in turn, had taken the rejection by –

"Call Jack," she instructed no-one in particular. "Not his mobile or pager, his house." Gabrielle had already let it slip that she had moved in with Jack. It had concerned Zoe that they were moving very quickly, and she had said so, but Gabrielle had refused to be swayed. She was a woman in love finally getting what she wanted, and no-one was going to take that from her.

"Why?" Bart asked

"'Cos I said so!" Zoe yelled. "And _try_ not to gossip along the way," she added condescendingly as Bart went to do her bidding. She knew Bart would still gossip. She didn't care. She had the sinking feeling that every minute, every second mattered right now.

An hour later, Jack rushed into the ED. He had walked out of surgery – Mike hadn't even tried to stop him – and gone home, to find Gabrielle's note. It had immediately raised his suspicions. After all they had been through, he doubted Gabrielle would leave him now – not when he had given her the opportunity to so many times, not now that he was separated and they were on their way to the life they wanted. And the words didn't sound like Gabrielle at all – he knew she had never felt guilty over his being marriage because she didn't consider his marriage to be a real one. It was only because of that that she could be his mistress. And he doubted she knew what 'absolution' meant. Raised Catholic, it was his experience that only others who had been raised in fairly hard-core Catholic households (the more hypocritical, the better) knew what the word meant.

People like Deanna.

Jack had been immediately filled with dread when he had realised that. One of the few things Deanna had been honest about washer hard-core and hypocritical upbringing; Jack suspected she had only been honest about that because they shared both the experience and the cynicism in religion because of it. Gabrielle wouldn't know what a word like 'absolution' meant – much less _use_ it – but Deanna would.

He had thought Deanna had been happy with the terms he had offered. Now he realised she had just kept her peace to take her revenge at some other point. She had someone managed to take Gabrielle, and it looked like she had taken Ella too, and God knew what was going through her head. What did Deanna think she would achieve? Did she really think Gabrielle would go quietly – or that, even if she did, Jack would take her back? He had made up his mind and now that he had chosen to leave Deanna, he felt an enormous sense of relief. Not for anything would be consider a reconciliation.

His stomach was churning by the time he entered the ED. "I found this," he said to Zoe, who had called him personally to tell him to go home as soon as he could. Zoe shared Jack's apprehension about the strangeness of the note. It sounded nothing like Gabrielle and besides, Gabrielle had been over the moon about Jack filing for separation and asking her to move in, she wasn't about to turn around and say she didn't want it.

"I agree," Zoe echoed Jack's concerns. It also wasn't like Gabrielle to not show up to work without at least telling someone. "Call the police."

Jack was smart enough to know that if he presented the note – in Gabrielle's handwriting – that unless you really knew Deanna's viciousness and deviousness, the police would have to take the note at face value. It would look like Gabrielle really had packed up and left out of guilty, and that perhaps Deanna, upon finding out about his affair, had taken Ella as punishment, and there was nothing against a parent taking their child wherever the hell they liked – especially since in the eyes of the law, Jack and Deanna were still married and there had been no issues with custody of the girl.

So Jack withheld the note, and told the police that his wife had found out about his affair, and he had called it off because of it, and now he was afraid Gabrielle had retaliated by taking Ella. He could barely keep a straight face as he told this fabrication, because anyone who knew Gabrielle in the slightest knew she wasn't capable of such cruelty and revenge.

The cops weren't entirely convinced. Even without seeing the note, to them, it was entirely plausible that the girl's mother had taken her as punishment for her husband's affair. She certainly wouldn't be the first spouse and parent to do such a thing. And since Mrs. Quade's family lived in Perth, she had the perfect opportunity to punish her husband – taking his daughter to the other side of the country under the guise of visiting her family.

"Please," Jack pleaded with them. "If something happens to her – how will that look on the six o'clock news? Surely you can just... have people keep an eye out for her car." Deanna's car had been parked at the house, bold as brass, when Jack had gotten there and Gabrielle's had been nowhere to be seen, so Jack assumed Deanna had taken Gabrielle's car. It made sense in keeping up with whatever she had in mind – she wanted Gabrielle to disappear, so her car had to disappear, too.

Jack shuddered to think what Deanna had in mind by 'disappear.'

The cops relented and made a call to have their members keep an eye out for a car matching the description and licence plate of Gabrielle's. "Thankyou," Jack said softly when they did. He knew there was nothing more he could do but wait, but the not knowing was almost more than he could bear.

Zoe waited until the police had left, then delivered a slap across Jack's face so forceful that the rest of the staff could hear it outside the office. "You selfish idiot!" she yelled at him. "Do you realise how stupid you've been?"

Jack hadn't tried to deflect the blow and did nothing to stop his cheek from swelling up, accepting the slap as a tiny fraction of what he deserved. He should have realised Deanna wouldn't just go away quietly. He should have realised she would do something to pay him back for leaving her. He should have realised he had severed what grasp she had on reality by taunting her about her increasing age and fading looks. "I know," he said in a painful whisper. "I should have made her go to the farm until this is all over."

"You _should_ have divorced Deanna before getting involved with her!" Zoe yelled at him. She knew they could hear every word outside, but it no longer mattered. Enough had been revealed that people could work out Jack and Gabrielle were involved. Her pregnancy wasn't yet public knowledge, but it wouldn't take long before someone worked out the only thing that would drive Jack to jeopardise his relationship with Ella.

"I know!" Jack yelled back.

"If anything happens to her, Jack –" Zoe didn't need to finish her sentence. It was forefront in both their minds what Deanna was capable of. She couldn't seriously think merely dispatching Gabrielle somewhere would be the end of her rival. It seemed unfathomable that she was capable of murder but it was even more unfathomable that Deanna thought Gabrielle would simply go away. And if Deanna _was_ capable of great violence, even murder, then the blame for her wrath and revenge could only be laid at one person for putting Gabrielle in a position to become Deanna's target.

"I know," Jack said, his voice trembling with the fear that wracked his body. "I was raised Catholic, remember? You don't have to tell me about guilt."

* * *

Gabrielle came too, her head throbbing, pain radiating out from the point Deanna had clubbed her. She felt groggy, and it took her a few seconds to realise that on top of the blinding pain in her head, Deanna must have drugged her.

Fear gripped her. When Deanna had made her write that stupid note, she hadn't understood what the older woman was getting at. Surely she didn't seriously believe that just telling her to go away would achieve what she wanted, that Gabrielle would actually go away, or that even if she did, Jack would love her again. She should have realised Deanna had already worked that out, and that she was resorting to far more drastic measures than anyone had previously thought her capable of.

She heard a child's cry in the recess of her mind, and to her horror, she realised Deanna had brought Ella. "Well, I couldn't leave her home alone, could I?" Deanna asked, realising Gabrielle was awake and had noticed Ella's presence. "I wouldn't be a very good mother if I did that." She actually sounded as if she believed what she was saying.

"This won't work, you know," Gabrielle said. Her own voice felt like it was coming from miles away. Her head felt so heavy that it seemed a miracle it stayed on her shoulders. She flexed her fingers and toes. She could feel everything, but everything felt so... heavy. _Oh, God, what has she done to me?_

"Jack will come to his senses once his whore is out of the picture," Deanna predicted confidently, again, actually sounding as if she believed what she was saying. "He's just a man, you know. He can't help being tempted." There was a note to her voice that put Gabrielle on edge. Deanna really _did_ believe what she was saying, Gabrielle realised. She wondered if she had _always_ believed in her little fantasy of a happy marriage or if something had tipped her over the edge in the last few days.

"He won't," Gabrielle said resolutely. The words were coming out despite the difficulty in talking and the strangeness of her own voice. "It doesn't matter what you do. He won't go back to you. He doesn't love you."

"Shut up!" Deanna screamed, and Gabrielle realised, even in her drugged condition, just how thin the veneer of Deanna's determined self-delusion was. There was some part of her that knew Jack wasn't coming back, even if she could make him believe that Gabrielle had left him... but there was another part, a stronger part that was determined to go on believing what she wanted to believe. "You think I didn't know exactly what you were the first time I saw you? Some country hick who's got nothing better to do with her time than sleep around. I know your type. You used a whore's tricks to distract him from _me_, his _wife_, the _love of his life_... but once you're gone, he won't be distracted anymore, and he'll come back."

Gabrielle's slowly processed the implications of what Deanna was saying, and the reality of the situation hit her like a ton of bricks. Deanna could never be made to believe that Jack didn't love her, because she could never be made to understand that she was an unlovable person – cold, selfish, manipulative. In her mind, she had done everything right only to have a tramp come and take it from her. In her mind, Jack would love her again if only the temptation were taken away.

And what would happen once she removed Gabrielle from the picture? Jack still wouldn't take her back, maybe not even for Ella. She knew him, knew that once he had made up his mind, no matter how agonising a choice it had been, he would stay the course. He would not reconcile with Deanna.

And how would Deanna react when she realised that? She never would, Gabrielle realised. There would always be some other person, some other reason for Jack's lack of interest in her. (Ha, _there_ was an understatement. Try utter revulsion.) If it wasn't Gabrielle, then it would be Ella. Or Rebecca or Cate or Charlotte or his career or any of the things that mattered to him more than Deanna. The whole _world_ mattered to him more than Deanna. Deanna could rot in hell for all he cared.

And Deanna could very well end up taking the world from him before she realised that Jack would never take her back.

A survival instinct stirred in Gabrielle, breaking through the haziness of whatever Deanna had given her, breaking through the pain. If she didn't stop it now, it wouldn't stop until either Jack or Deanna was dead. Morbidly, she recalled thinking at the time Jack and Deanna had gotten married that Jack's assessment of Deanna as _Misery's_ Annie Wilkes was spot-on, right down to the fact that after a while it had become clear that one would be the death of the other. She had only been half-serious when she had first thought it, but now she realised how deadly accurate she had been in the sentiment.

A few minutes passed as Gabrielle sat there trying to think of a way out of this. She had no doubt Deanna intended to kill her. Deanna might be psychotic and delusional, but she wasn't dumb enough to think that just dropping Gabrielle off somewhere would be the end of it. She had to know that Gabrielle would just make her way back to Sydney and report Deanna to the police. No, Deanna needed a much more permanent solution than _that_.

From a distance, Gabrielle heard the sound of police sirens. She was instantly stirred with hope that they were after Deanna – well, her really, because this was _her_ car – despite the fact they had no reason to be interested in her. Her mind raced – as far as it _could_ race in it's drugged state – trying to recall if there was anything wrong with her car that might attract police attention. Her mind came up blank. An upbringing in the country, kilometres from anywhere, had instilled in her the value of having a vehicle that was always in top working order.

But then it became obvious that the police _were_ interested in her car, and she started thinking again. They would notice her absence by now, she realised. She wasn't the type to not show up without telling anyone. And they would have tried calling her at home, on her mobile... her brain ticked slowly over. Had Jack already been home to find her note? Had someone else – Zoe, most likely – thought to try and find her at Jack's? Had Jack realised the note sounded nothing like her... and reacted immediately when he had noticed both she and Ella were gone. She wondered if Deanna had left her car at the Bondi place. That would implicate her, at least in Jack's mind, even if no-one but a few would believe there was something suspicious about a woman parking her car at the house she shared with her husband.

_What would he have told the cops?_ Certainly not the truth. The truth would sound more like his wife, having found out about his affair, had taken his daughter as punishment. _Think_.

"You bitch!" Deanna screamed at Gabrielle. "You called the cops."

_Yep, definitely delusional_. Gabrielle found herself giggling in spite of the seriousness of the situation. When did Deanna think she'd had the time and resources to call the cops? Deanna slammed her foot on the accelerator, which made Gabrielle giggle again. He car was designed to handle all sorts of conditions, not to be fast. There was no way it could outrun a cop car.

Deanna realised this after a few seconds. She was fuming with rage. She just _knew_ Gabrielle had somehow contrived to call the police. Gabrielle was at the centre of everything that was wrong in her life, this was just one thing to add to it. Well, she wasn't going to get away with it; she had ruined Deanna's life enough already.

Without taking her foot off the accelerator, Deanna reached for the gun she had kept between her and the driver's side door. Gabrielle's eyes widened when she saw the glint of metal and she knew she had to act _now_ or be dead.

With all the strength she had, she reached for the handbrake and yanked it up. The car immediately started skidding. With a scream, Deanna let go of the gun and grabbed the steering wheel with both hands, trying to keep hold of the wheel. Gabrielle took a degree of grim pleasure out of watching the older woman try to get the car back under control. _She _ could have done it, especially since she knew her car so well, but Deanna struggled with both a large car and the loss of control.

The car skidded off the road, over rocks big and small that made Deanna scream and Ella cry hysterically. It came to a thudding halt when it ploughed into a tree with enough force to break the tree and send it crashing down on top of the car. Since the driver's side had taken the brunt of the force, it was the driver's side that took the brunt of the falling tree. Gabrielle's roof rack was insanely sturdy, and it prevented the tree from crushing the car, but the mental of both rack and car nonetheless buckled, and Gabrielle could see that it was only a matter of time before gravity did its work.

And there was another thing. The unmistakable smell of fuel. The tank must have ruptured at some point. Gabrielle knew she needed to get out of the car _now_ and not wait for the cops who had surely seen the car go off the road.

Stumbling, feeling as if she would collapse at any moment, she struggled to unlatch her seatbelt – odd how Deanna had thought of that – and get out of the car. Her body felt even heavier than it had when she was sitting down, now that her legs had to support her. She placed her hands against the side of the car for balance, trying to rally her strength and senses when Ella's crying made her forget about her own safety. Using the car to keep her upright, she made her way around to the other side of the car – why had Deanna had to put her in the _driver's_ side passenger seat, in fact, why did she have to bring her at all? – and then saw just how extensive the damage was. The crash had crumpled that side of the car by a good half meter, and Gabrielle would hazard a guess that Deanna was now trapped inside. In a lot of pain, by the tone of her screaming. And the way what remained of her roof and roof rack bore down on the car, it definitely wasn't enough headroom for an adult.

Nonetheless, Deanna was alive an conscious. She had pushed herself down into the seat when she had seen the tree go and had been unable to get free of the car, her legs trapped by the crumpled car. "You bitch!" she screamed at Deanna. "Get me out of here! I'll have you on charges for attempted murder."

That brought a grim smile of irony to Gabrielle's face. She ignored Deanna's attempts to grab her and focused on getting the passenger's side door open. Thankgod, the crash and tree hadn't jammed the handle mechanism, and with a groan that suggested it was about to fall off, the door shuddered open.

Deanna attempted to hold onto Gabrielle, as if knowing that there were possible seconds before the leaking fuel tank set alight and determined to take Gabrielle - and Ella – down with her. With superhuman effort, Gabrielle broke free and, Ella in her arms, stumbled away from the car and in the direction of the road, only knowing that she had to get as far away from the vehicle before it exploded.

She had only gotten a few steps before she heard a roar behind her. She stumbled forward and everything went black.

_Mwahaha. Now I'm off to write another chapter of Miss Jones and maybe another one-shot I have in mind so remember, feedback makes Gabbie write faster!_


	9. Chapter 9

Charlotte was distracted from her book by the sound of Gabrielle choking on the tube down her throat. "Easy," she said gently, leaning over to remove the tube. "OK, that's it. Breathe."

Gabrielle breathed in, and was immediately rewarded for her efforts by a sharp stabbing pain in her ribs. She winced, and Charlotte smiled sympathetically. "You gave us quite a scare," she told the younger woman. "And you have the most awful timing. We finally managed to convince Jack only yesterday to go home and deal with Deanna's mum so long as one of us would watch over you." The ED had been shut for the past four days. They couldn't function without a NUM and besides, everyone was too distracted over their friend and colleague being in a coma to be able to work.

Mike had done the best anyone could have to stop the internal bleeding caused by the initial crash and then her fall. The drugs Deanna had given her had badly affected her liver, a condition worsened by her pregnancy. For the last four days she had been stable but in a coma. For three of those four days, Jack had stayed by her side, refusing to leave. Ben and Russel had come to Sydney and insisted on taking Gabrielle home. Legally, as a fiancée who had less than a week ago been married to someone else, he had no rights, but Frank somehow managed to get a court order keeping Gabrielle at the hospital. Only in the privacy of his office did Frank lay into Jack about how reckless he had been. But even then, Frank's heart hadn't been in it. It was hard, even for someone like Frank, to be angry with someone who was so gutted with distress. And besides, if anything had proven that Deanna would still have held Gabrielle – or someone – responsible for Jack leaving her even if Jack _had_ done it when he had first realised his feelings, it was Deanna's attempt to murder Gabrielle.

That, and her lovely scrapbook. For some indeterminate period of time, she had been gunning for everyone Jack had cared about, just as Gabrielle had suspected, documented who he saw and when he saw them, growing more and more resentful over the people Jack cared about more than her. It had only been that she thought Jack had too much honour to do anything that she hadn't realised Jack had started something with Gabrielle. Rebecca, Cate, Charlotte – despite Deanna's death, Heath had refused to let Cate leave his side. No-one blamed him. Everyone knew Deanna was off her rocker, but no-one realised the depths of evil she was willing to go to in order to hold onto Jack. Charlotte didn't blame Heath in the slightest. Since the ED had been closed down, she had spent all her time with Zach. The little boy was with her right now.

She watched Gabrielle struggle to get a grip on everything that had happened. There was a lot of vicious gossip going around, predictably, a lot of people placing responsibility for everything that had happened on Gabrielle, as if Deanna or Jack had had no say in the matter. The poor girl was in for a lot of grief when she recovered enough to learn what people were saying about her. Well, Charlotte wasn't about to add to that grief. "What's the last thing you remember?" she asked gently.

Gabrielle thought as hard as she could. Deanna. The gun. The note. The car. The crash. _Ella_. "Ella," she said weakly.

Typical of Gabrielle to think of Ella first. "She's fine," Charlotte said. "The force of the explosion must have thrown her from your arms. She landed in a bush, she's got nothing but some scratches. Jack took her home yesterday." By 'home' Charlotte actually meant he had conscripted her to fetch all of Ella's things from his house and had set up a mini-nursery here in Gabrielle's ICU room.

Gabrielle's fingers fluttered weakly in the direction of her stomach in an attempt to place her hand there. "My baby," she said, not caring what Charlotte thought of her.

"Fine, too. You had a close call, you know that? Someone out there likes you?" Now, _there_ was an irony. Someone out there hadn't liked Jack for a long time. Someone out there had put him and Gabrielle through hell to be together. "You're going to need strict bed rest for at least three months, maybe the rest of your pregnancy. How long have you been together?" There was no point in beating around the bush; the entire hospital, and most of the medical community, and a fair chunk of people who had nothing better to do than follow Sydney's social scene, were aware that rising star Jack Quade had been having an affair and when his wife had found out, had tried to kill the woman. That Gabrielle had escaped the blast that had killed Deanna only added, so to speak, fuel to the flames. People wondered if it had actually been _Gabrielle_ who had intended to kill Deanna. That Deanna had been the one in the driver's seat or that Gabrielle had been pumped so full of drugs it had been a minor miracle she had managed to clear the car before it had exploded were facts too logical for gossip to dwell on. Which all made it much too late for anyone to beat around the bush when it came to the true nature of Jack and Gabrielle's relationship.

"Six months," Gabrielle said. Less than, actually – thinking about it, she couldn't believe so much had happened over such a short period of time – but Charlotte didn't need the details.

_Six months_. That made sense. She had thought something had been up with Jack for about that period of time, but she had been too preoccupied as a new mum herself to concern herself much with him. Charlotte felt a pang of guilt for that. She should have paid more attention. But then, she realised, they _all_ should have. "And he was celibate before that?" she asked. They both knew that by 'before that' she meant the time in between first leaving Deanna and him and Gabrielle getting together, almost two years later. Gabrielle nodded. Easier to nod then to try and formulate the words. "Then six months will be a breeze for him," Charlotte continued. That was, if they could move past this. She wondered if Gabrielle blamed Jack for what had happened. She knew there were quite a few people – Zoe included – who did. Zoe had been highly vocal in her opinion that Jack should have divorced Deanna from the beginning (not that that would have achieved much, as they had all found out) and Jack seemed to share her opinion. God knew, he was sinking deeper into his guilt every day. She wondered if Gabrielle held Deanna's actions against him, and if she did, if between Gabrielle's resentment and Jack's guilt, they could ever get over it.

"Jack likes sex," Gabrielle said weakly.

"I remember," Charlotte said wryly. She saw the pained look on Gabrielle's face, knew it wasn't from a physical source. Jokes about exes probably wasn't in the finest of taste right now, she thought. "But seriously, no sex. I wouldn't even recommend it if you _weren't_ pregnant. I don't think you realise how weak you are." Charlotte suspected the truth was closer to the fact that Gabrielle was too proud to admit how weak she was... especially in light of how strong and healthy she had been just a few days ago. "You need to rest," Charlotte said, trying to be a doctor instead of a friend.

"Jack..."

Charlotte pulled out her phone. "I'm texting him right now," she promised, doing exactly as she said. She was sure if she didn't tell Jack the second Gabrielle was awake, he would somehow find out about it and then she would _wish_ she had become the target of Deanna's crazy vengeance.

"Ring."

"If that's what you want." She started to cancel the message and scrolled through her phone to get Jack's number.

"No." Charlotte looked at Gabrielle quizzically, not sure what her friend was getting at. "Jack... _ring_." She fluttered the forth finger on her left hand weakly, trying to make her point. Charlotte wondered if Gabrielle could actually _see_ that her engagement ring was gone, or if she just sensed it.

"He bought you a new one," she said quickly. "See?" She pulled it out of the drawer where Jack had left it. Gabrielle's fingers fluttered ineffectually for it, and Charlotte put it back in its drawer. "I think he wants to give it to you himself." And _he_ could tell her how he decided that, since Deanna had wanted the old ring badly enough to kill for it, she could be buried with it. Except he hadn't said it that nicely.

"Jack..." Gabrielle felt a sob catch in her throat, and to her horror, the tears start. Bad enough to be stuck in this bed barely able to move with only fragments of memories in her head, but to start crying, too.

Charlotte leaned over and stroked her hair. "Shhh, he'll be here soon, I promise." And kicking himself that she woke up not long after he had been persuaded to leave her, no doubt. "You need to get some rest."

"Want to wait for him." It had been the most words Gabrielle had strung together so far.

"No, you need to rest. You don't want to endanger your health or your child's, do you?" Gabrielle shook her head. "Then rest. I promise I will stay with you until Jack gets here. You won't be alone."

When Gabrielle woke up next, she knew a lot of time had past – maybe even more than a day – because it was dark, the only light in the room was a nightlight next to her bed. She called out weakly for Jack, and he grabbed his hand. "Give me a sec, I'll turn the lights on," he said. She reluctantly let go of his fingers so he could scoot across to the other side of the room to turn the lights on. He returned to her bedside and took her hand again. For a long time, he sat in silence, thinking about the events of the last few days – less than a week, although it had felt like an eternity. First, the waiting. Then finding out that Deanna had kidnapped and intended to kill Gabrielle. No-one was sure what she had planned to do with Ella. Kill her too, in her deluded attempt to remove everything and everyone that Jack loved from his life, or just out of a deluded sense of responsibility that she couldn't leave the child by herself? The waiting by Gabrielle's bedside, refusing orders from both admin, Frank and Russel Jaeger to go home.

Finally, meeting Madeline Richardson, the mother Deanna hated so much. After just a few minutes, Jack had understood why, even felt a flash of pity for Deanna, having grown up with such a woman. She was something out of a different era altogether, a woman who redefined fanatical Catholicism and to this day remained convinced that a teenage Deanna had set out to seduce her step-father, Madeline's second husband. Intellectually, Jack knew that in those cases, it was almost always the reverse, with the child as the victim, but given everything he knew about Deanna... at the very least, he realised now, she had learnt at a young age to use sex and manipulation to get what she wanted. In a way, he felt sorry for her. She had never known how to be loved for herself, had been wired from the word go to believe all she had to offer was sex, shallow charm and good looks. In death, he understood her so much better than he ever had in life, and he couldn't bring himself to hate her. God knew, hatred had done nothing by destroy his life so far. And Gabrielle's.

He finally blurted out, "Forgive me."

She looked at him quizzically. What on earth did he have that needed forgiving? "For what?" she asked weakly.

"I should have known – I should have known Deanna had no intention of going quietly. I should have made you go to the farm where you'd be safe. I should never have gotten involved with you at all."

He was so obviously full of remorse that her heart went out to him. Charlotte had said something about people blaming him for getting her involved in his train wreck of a marriage, but she hadn't seriously thought Jack would think along those same lines. After all, _she_ had been the one to pursue a relationship with him. She had known exactly what she was getting herself in. Well, maybe not _exactly_ – she hadn't thought Deanna was as crazy, delusional and dangerous as she had turned out to be – but other than that... how could Jack blame himself for what had happened? "I... don't... blame you," she said slowly. Her brain was working so much quicker than her body. God, she felt so tired but she had to get the words out.

"I wouldn't blame you if you didn't want to marry me anymore," Jack said. God knew, Russel certainly didn't approve of him, and Jack didn't blame the guy. He had no idea what Frank had done to order Gabrielle be kept at the hospital until she was lucid enough to make her own decisions, but Jack thought Russel had every right to take his daughter away from the man who had brought so much grief to her life – possibly, in the end, even cost her that life.

It was ironic. Deanna had been determined to kill Gabrielle, to take back what she saw as her rightful claim in Jack's life. In her attempt, she had actually made it easier for Jack to marry Gabrielle. Now she was dead and he was considered a widow, in law if not in reality – no-one who knew them had ever considered it a real marriage – and he could remarry at a moment's notice. No waiting for months, even years, no massive payouts, not having Ella being held over his head. He was free to marry Gabrielle, which was the exact opposite of what Deanna had intended.

And now that he was free, and at such a high cost – a cost he would have gladly traded a protracted divorce hearing and massive payout for – he wouldn't blame Gabrielle in the slightest if she didn't want to see him again. His actions had almost cost her her life.

Gabrielle shook her head as vehemently as she could manage, shocked that after all they had been through, Jack would be considering withdrawing _now_. Deanna was dead, which certainly made things easier for them... but dead at a cost that was difficult to fathom. There would be talk, she knew, more talk even then if she had just been named as the mistress he had divorced his wife to marry. No matter how many people spoke out against Gabrielle, no matter that the coroner's report and police inquiries would ultimately clear her, there would almost be that lingering scent of scandal.

A scandal Jack was convinced he had dragged her into.

"Jack... I do... I _do_ want... to marry you."

For a second, Jack just stared at her, not wanting to hope that she had said the words he'd been longing to hear. He had set himself up to deal with it should she not want anything more to do with it... and he couldn't stand to get his hopes up only to realise he'd been fantasising. "What?" he asked incredulously.

"I do..." she struggled with the words, and closed her eyes for a second, trying to gather her strength.

She opened her mouth to speak again after a few seconds, but Jack placed his fingers over it. The words she had managed were enough. "I can get a celebrant right now," he said, fully intending to drag the first person able to perform a wedding ceremony to Gabrielle's bedside if that's what it took.

Gabrielle smiled weakly. He'd been crying, she realised, and now his eyes were shining brightly through his tears. She wondered how many tears he had shed over the last two years. Well, that was over now. But like hell she wasn't going to settle for some bedside ceremony when she could barely voice her thoughts. She grinned weakly. She doubt it had occurred to Jack that few celebrants would marry them when she could barely voice her thoughts. But that wasn't her main concern. "Don't want... our wedding night... to be... sham," she said.

Jack nodded. For a long time now, they had understood each other silently, and she said all that needed to be said with her fractured sentence. Frank had already given him a massive lecture about how weak she was, how she needed bed rest for at least the next three months, possibly for the duration of her pregnancy and after it, and to engage in any kind of intimacy would endanger both her health and the life of their child. As if he would do that. Did Frank _seriously_ think sex meant that much to him? "Of course," he said. What did three months, six months, even a year matter anymore? Deanna was gone and whatever obstacles they had to face now, they could face together. He could wait however long it took and give her the wedding of her dreams. (God knew, they now had four hundred thousand dollars that they hadn't expected to have.) "Whatever makes you happy."

"Charlotte said... Charlotte said... ring," Gabrielle managed. Jack understood her immediately. He had shown Charlotte the new ring he had bought Gabrielle – Deanna had commandeered the first engagement ring, had died wearing it, and it seemed like grim justice to let her be buried with it. Besides, he didn't want Gabrielle wearing anything Deanna had worn, even if Deanna had taken it from her after clubbing her unconscious.

Jack reached for the drawer he had left the ring in and pulled it out. With a certain sense of macabre humour, he had spent up big, knowing he had four hundred thousand dollars that could have been Deanna's, had she gone quietly, to spend. The ring he had bought was so expensive it would have been considered ostentatious, had it not been so tasteful, a solid-carat princess-cut diamond set in a white-gold band and surrounded by white pearls who's opaque lustre enhanced the brilliance of the diamond, just as the brilliance of the diamond enhanced the opaque lustre of the pearls. It was truly a beautiful ring, even more beautiful than the one he had inherited from Mary, the one Deanna had been prepared to kill for. "Marry me," he said simply, holding the box close enough that she could reach out and touch it.

She fingered the exquisite ring for a few seconds, blown away by its beauty and obvious expense. She got a surge of malicious pleasure out of knowing it was nicer even than the one Deanna had stolen for herself, then oddly found herself feeling sorry for the dead woman. She had clearly never truly been loved, or she would never have instigated such an unhappy marriage. She had been bitter and jealous and the two had ultimately driven her to her death. And now that she was dead, Gabrielle doubted that anyone would mourn her. "Lay by me," she requested, weakly patting the bed beside her.

Jack scooted over beside her, laying her as gently as he could on her side and cuddling up to her. "I thought I'd never get to do this again," he whispered to her.

"Me too," She agreed, falling asleep in his arms.

It was how Charlotte found them, sound asleep, hours later.


	10. Chapter 10

**Epilogue**

_Eight years later_

**Warning, I've been told by my beta-reader that the order of kids (and who they belong to) can be a little hard to follow if you read it to fast - so you may need to reread it. Otherwise, enjoy!  
**

He knew that whistle. Cate Vega actually managed to be even more shrill than Cate McMasters had ever been. He slowed his walk to a stop to wait for her. She walked beside him, and he wrapped his arm around her, planting a kiss on her cheek as if she was a long-affectionate sister, which was how he thought of her. They had grown as a group over the last ten years, and it was a stupid, insecure man who felt resentment over the bond they shared. And Heath was neither stupid or insecure. "How's it going?" he asked.

"I feel like crap," she complained. "I feel like a cow."

He laughed. "You love being a mum," he reminded her.

"I love being a mum," she replied. "I hate being pregnant."

"Shouldn't you be taking it easy?" he asked. "You look tired."

She scowled in a way that made Jack laugh. "I already have an over-protective husband, I don't need another," she growled.

"Well, how about an over-protective uncle?" he asked.

She softened. The truth was, he was good with her little boy Jacob. They both knew about being without parents, about finding family where you could... and he was the kind of uncle that genuine nephews envied

"Are you coming tonight?" he asked.

"Of course. How often does a girl go into double-digits? Or, for that matter, get another mum?"

He kissed her head again. "Thankyou," he said. He had been surprised when Cate had been the one to explain to Ella that, whatever her first mum had meant to her as the woman who had given birth to her, she could love her new mum just as much without being disloyal. Cate had hated Deanna more than most. But then, Cate, more than anyone else understood that sometimes family had to be where you found it. He walked her to her car. Pregnancy became her, no matter what she said. She was glowing. But maybe that was from being a woman in love. God knew, he wore that look himself often enough.

He drove home to his wife and kissed her hello. "How are things?" he asked Gabrielle.

"Good," she said. "Ben and the twins and asleep, but Ella is hyper-excited."

Neither of them were surprised. Ella had wanted Gabrielle to be her 'real mum', not just her step-mum, for a while. It had been Jack's choice. He had wanted Ella to be old enough to choose for herself... and what better moment then turning ten?

As if on cue, Ella came running out. She knew it was her birthday, wanted her dad's love – and her new mum's. "Daddy!" she cried, jumping into his arms.

He cuddled her appropriately, knowing what was to come, knowing he and Gabrielle had waited so long for this.

Rebecca, as always, was the first to arrive. At thirty, age had made her more beautiful, more intelligent, more interesting. She had no interest in having children of her own, but she loved her nieces and nephew, and all the children her brother and sister-in-law had taken it upon themselves to take on as quasi nieces and nephews. "Just let me change," Rebecca said breathlessly. She was wearing a thousand-dollar suit. Better that she change into Target jeans and shirt before she started playing with children.

Next, naturally, were Erica and Dan. After Ella, they had Andrew, who was eight-and-a-half, and after Ben, they had little Nicki (she refused to be called Nicole). She was six. After Erica and Dan were Cate and Heath with their son Jacob, now seven. And now expecting.

Then came Ben and Caitlen. Their oldest son, aged five, was named after his grandfather, Russel. Their daughter, three, had been named Gabrielle, then to avoid confusion between her and her aunt, nicknamed Elle. (This would later on cause confusion between her and her cousin Ella.)

And then of course was Charlotte, honorary aunt to the lot of them, with her little boy Zach, aged nine.

And of course there was little Ben, Jack and Gabrielle's son, aged eight, followed by the twins, Mary and Becky, aged six.

Eight adults, ten children. They made a happy group. And they were here for Ella's tenth birthday. And more than that. Gabrielle's signing of the adoption certificate. Ella had insisted for years that she wanted Gabrielle for her mum. Cate had, for more gracious about Deanna in death than in life, explained to her that it was only natural she want Gabrielle for her mum given she had never known Deanna and Gabrielle was such a good mum...

The eighteen of them got together for dinner that evening. There was lots of laughter, lots of camaraderie. Finally, it came time for Gabrielle to sign the certificate. "First," Cate said, "I want to offer a toast." She and Jack shared a look over their wine glasses. They had been friends for a long time. They appreciated better than most what it meant to take family where you found it. They were the sister and brother the other had never had. They were an example to everyone else that family was where you found it. "To family," she toasted. "And friendship... wherever you find it. To the ties that bind, I guess," she finished.

It was a perfect note. Everyone raised their glasses. "To the ties that bind," they all agreed.


End file.
